PUNISHED!
by AngeloftheMorning1978
Summary: Warning! Erotica! Sequel to "PROTEST!". As news of strikes, women's rights and social upheaval outrage Ariadne, how will Arthur handle such a willful wife?
1. Chapter 1

**_First, I need to apologize to all my awesome followers. It's been very hard lately to write. I'm now working a job that has 0% downtime and when I get home, I'm very tired. Sucks. _**

**_When I do have time, I spend it on Netflix. A tool of the devil! I'm also reading more. Right now, I just finished reading "The Shining Girls" pretty good book. I will try harder to write everyday again. I'm also reworking some of my old stuff. _**

**Warning! Erotica! Sequel to "PROTEST!" **

PUNISHED!

1.

**~ 1907 ~ **

~ Arthur was fond of the exclusive social club near his office he belonged to. It was a fine set of rooms that were filled with comfortable arm chairs, tables for playing cards at, and a full bar with an experienced tender to pour drinks. The rooms were all given dark wallpaper, all the better to display photographs of hunting trips on, and the air stank of cigar smoke and dry talks of business and politics. Nothing about the club lent itself to the female persuasion. Indeed, a woman wasn't allowed to set foot here, not even to clean.

As Arthur was among the younger, more successful business men in the group, he had to suffer with the overly ambitious of his generation for talk. He was still in the category of 'New Money' and those with more connections had little to do with him.

"I tell you that these unions are a travesty. A bunch of thugs wanting to destroy the country. I took out a large loan to bring in new equipment, now I'm in danger of losing all my workers? It's only going to to hurt these greedy people." one of his contemporaries were saying.

"I agree it will hurt growth." said another.

Arthur said nothing. He was too young, too newly accepted in this world to speak his mind. No one would listen to him anyway.

"Mr. Brandon is it?" came an amused voice from another table.

Arthur turned in his seat to see an older gentleman smiling at him.  
>"Mr. Clark." Arthur said and stood to shake his hand.<br>"Won't you join us?" Mr. Clark asked and waved to an empty chair in a tightly formed group of older men. These were the city's most wealthy and influential. Men who owned department stores and who made fortunes in coal and shipping. More accurately, their grandfathers had made money doing these things.

"Thank you, sir." Arthur said happily and sat down next to Mr. Clark.

"Do you play at all?" Mr. Harper, vice president of the city's largest bank, asked. He was dealing cards and asking if Arthur wanted to be dealt in.

"Certainly." Arthur nodded. He was very gifted at gambling, although it was a vice like anything else. His mother had always taught him he was just as apt to lose as to win.

But he kept his mouth tightly shut and let the older men speak.

"I understand your wife just had a baby. Congratulations are in order. I trust the pair of them are well?" Mr. Clark said.  
>"Very well." Arthur said happily. "We've a son named Charles. He'll be three months old tomorrow."<p>

"A son!" cried one of the men. "Splendid. Will he take over for you one day? Running the accounts and all?"

"I hope so." Arthur said shyly. He wasn't sure how to relate to these men.

"Thank goodness it wasn't a girl, Mr. Brandon." another man laughed.

Arthur paused. He felt like a trap was being set up for him.

"Oh?" was all he said.

"Well yes." the man, a shipping magnate, went on. "With your wife behaving as she does. Arrested and all last year. What was it? Oh yes, wanting the vote. Obscene."

Arthur felt his face burn as he looked at his cards. He pulled free a five dollar bill and placed it one the table.

"Mrs. Brandon believes in many fashionable things." he said at last.

"Oh, it's _trendy_ to have the wife of a respectable man protesting in the streets?" huffed another player as the second round of cards was dealt. Arthur had a good hand and he tried not to show emotion to their harsh words.

"I think I saw your wife last year, sir." another man said. "Small thing. She had rotted fruit thrown at her? Terrible to see. I would hate to have my dear Penelope treated that way. Still, if you're indifferent to her actions simply because they are fashionable."

The older men chuckled and Arthur said nothing.

"I wouldn't care how fashionable this silly women's movement is. You'll never catch my wife or daughters on the street like that. It would be the day they would leave my house forever." Declared another man.  
>"Now, now." Mr. Clark said as Arthur counted forty dollars had been added to the center table. "Mrs. Brandon was younger then, and foolish. We must not forget that motherhood must have quieted her down."<p>

"I should hope so." said a sever old man who raised the stakes to twenty dollars a hand. Arthur didn't flinch as he fished out the larger bill.

The older man preached on.

"Because I can't see how you would be welcome in any respectable club if you're wife was to shame her own husband so publicly again."

Arthur recognized the older man as Mr. Horn. He owned several factories in the city and was at the center of his own controversy.

"I call." Arthur said darkly and laid out his hand.

The other man huffed at the flush he had. All of them looking at the younger man with the crazed wife with deep content.

"Very nice game." Arthur sighed and neatly stacked his winnings in front of them. He was quick to pocket their money and leave. His jaw setting so hard, he thought he might break a tooth.

~ There were never enough hours in the day for Ariadne.

"Now, Charlie, we mustn't play with mother's books." she scolded her son gently as he batted at her reading. She had a to prepare a argument for class tomorrow on the labor crisis as well as pen a letter to that ghastly Mr. Horn.

Ariadne sympathized with the strike leaders. It was too much to ask of entire families working in mills. Of children not getting an education, of workers getting sick from bad conditions. Why, it was little better than slave wages what some of them made.

She kept a weather eye on little Charlie as he crawled across his large quilt to his other toys. Since he had become more mobile, the whole world was open to him now.

As a result, Ariadne kept the front room as baby friendly as possible. Gone was the marble table top, glass objects, Arthur's secretary and fire place pokers. All that was left was the sofa and Arthur's reading chair. Things Charlie couldn't hurt himself with. Ariadne flicked her eyes to her son, realized she couldn't study and watch him at the same time, and closed her book.

"Charlie Brandon." she called to the infant who ignored her. "When are we going to stand up? Mother is very excited to see that."

Her son ignored her, found the stuffed bear his father had given him and promptly started to chew on it's nose.

"I take it you're hungry." Ariadne laughed to herself. "Not to worry. As soon and papa comes home, we may all eat dinner together."

"Madam?" came a scared little voice from the hallway.

Ariadne looked up to see Anne, the young nanny look in.

"Would you like me to take him now? It's almost time for him to eat." the younger woman asked. Anne was not even twenty, but had been care taking children since she was a child herself. Ariadne couldn't find fault with the very young girl, but she disliked having to rely on someone else to care for her son. Still, her own mother employed a nanny, and it was the civil thing to do.

"I want Mr. Brandon to see him before dinner." she said to the nanny who bobbed a little curtsy and left.

Almost as if she had summoned him, Ariadne heard Arthur's footfalls on the steps outside of their town home. Her husband wasted no time in letting himself in and shaking off his coat.

"We're in here!" Ariadne called to racket he always made when coming home. Mrs. Marsh, his housekeeper for many years, rushed to meet him in the hallway, and helped him put away his coat properly. Ariadne accepted she was Arthur's maid and never really hers. She really only took orders from the man of the house.

But all that was forgotten as soon as she saw her handsome husband appear. He was dressed nicely as always, and looked relieved to be safely home.

"I wanted Charlie to see you before dinner." Ariadne said contently as she watched Arthur pick their son up.

Charlie wasn't as impressed with Arthur as his mother was. He took it for granted the things and people in his world. He knew his mother and father doted on him and that it was his right to be spoiled and adored.

"How was the club?" she asked him after Charlie, resigned to being held contented himself on his father's lap, playing with his large hands and trying to chew them.

"Boring." Arthur admitted. "Nothing but strike talk."

"It's that Mr. Horn." Ariadne hissed. "I've read about him in the papers. He hires children as young as five and pays them less than a dollar a week. He takes their rent out of their pay and gives them no choice about where to live. It's not capitalism and he needs to be arrested."

She was about to go on when her husband let out a long sigh.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"No. Just hungry." he said.

She could always tell when he was lying.

"Mrs. Marsh will be serving dinner soon." she offered.

"Well, Charles is going to be fed by nanny tonight. Last night you barely ate a thing trying to feed him and yourself at the table." he said.

"I like having Charlie at the dinner table. His highchair wasn't in the way." Ariadne smiled as she noticed for the thousandth time her son had his father's odd little ears.

"No. We've hired the nanny to take him so we can have a civilized meal." Arthur said coldly. "I won't have you feeding a baby, making a mess, while we eat. It's not how things are done for people of our society."

Ariadne almost laughed, but realized he was serious.

"Arthur, what is it? What wrong?" she whispered.

Arthur ignored her and let Charlie gnaw on his fingers some more.

"I think we should turn the sitting room back. What if we have company? The furnishings are not suitable for company." he said at last.

"Charlie could knock something over-"

"_Charles _has his nursery for playing. The sitting room is for adults." he interrupted.

Ariadne opened her mouth to argue when Mrs. Marsh came in followed closely by nanny Anne.

"Dinner is ready, sir." she said and Ariadne could only watch as her husband handed Charlie over to the young nanny and leave.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

~ Ariadne undressed in her own room. Nanny Anne had already fed and put Charlie down to sleep by the time his parents had finished eating. Arthur insisted they have dinner alone, but didn't want to talk about why his mood was so dark. Could it be the strike talks were worse than she feared? Arthur's business was dependent on immigrant labor, and if his factors were shut down, what would happen to them?

She had asked him about the news papers, but he carefully avoided the subject of strike workers and news of safety violations. He also didn't want to talk about the women who had recently been arrested for protesting. Subjects they used to talk about very freely until recently.

Her curiosity was alerted to her husband's sudden change, but he wouldn't comment on it. Not even to argue with her about her stand of labor abuse.

She pulled off her cumbersome winter garments, taking her underthings off in one easy swoop and ran a hot bath for herself, trying to think on what she would say in her letter to the factory owners who employed children. It wasn't enough to just write letters or boycott items. A law would have to be passed.

Since Charlie's birth, she looked at every child now with new eyes. How would she feel if her precious baby were made to work in a dirty, dangerous factory? It was immoral to do such a thing and immoral to keep silent as such a thing went on.

She would have to talk to Arthur about it.

~ Arthur had likewise retreated to his rooms for the night. He was feeling cranky over what happened at the club. How other men were mocking him because of his willful wife. Men who had no idea what his wife was really like. Who didn't see how amazing she could be. No, they didn't know his family. Didn't understand that the world was changing and they would soon be left behind.

He helped himself to the decanter of strong sipping whiskey he kept on his dresser. He almost never drank, but he wanted to feel a little light headed tonight. His day had started well enough. Ariadne had come to him in the night and they had slept in the same bed. She wasn't interested in being with him like they were before the baby was born, but it was nice feel her warm, sweet smelling body next to his. To have her kiss him as they talked about trivial things. How she wanted new curtains and wallpaper in the dining room.

He hadn't pressured her to have relations with him yet. He wasn't sure how much time she needed after the pain of a baby.

Motherhood was good to his wife. Her skin took on a radiance that he never saw on her before. Her body had changed as well. What was once the slender body and narrow hips of his bride, was now the soft rounded curves of a woman. Her body was in full bloom in a way that made his pulse quicken.

He let out a tired sigh, and relaxed in his chair. Ariadne was at it again. Having the baby had distracted her, but only yesterday she was talking about the news and of politics. About unions and children working in factories.

He admired her passion. But it was misplaced. Perhaps if she had been born a man, she could have made great changes in the world, but she was a wife and mother now. Her passions belonged to him and their son.

He looked around the room. As if to make sure he was truly alone, and reached for a nearby book. It was a dull book of accounting practices that no one would find interesting, and made for a perfect hiding place.

He pulled from it, the secret stash of risky photographs he kept hidden. On a whim, Arthur had ordered them from a shop in Paris. They were discreetly delivered to him in the mail and told the scandalous story or a fine, victorian lady, prim and proper doing very naughty things with a well endowed man who was not her husband.

These images of the lady performing these amazing acts stirred Arthur's imagination. He particularly loved the prim young maid putting the strangers member in her mouth. Her wide eyes looking up at him as if she enjoyed it. The only clothing on her body was white stockings and a hair ribbon.

He went through each picture as the stories progressed. A woman being kidnapped by a wealthy suitor whom she had scorned. He forces her to submit to him. Once the initial pain of penetration was over, she turned into a ravenous harlot. Demanding her new lover take her over and over again. It was all very unlikely, but Arthur found his breathing picking up at the sight of the poor girl being mounted. A pleased smile on her face as her bare body was displayed for all the world to see.

His wife would never do such a thing. She insisted on being covered at all times.

Ariadne. He missed her. Missed their coupling to the point he felt his body might break.

His hand fell into his lap were he could feel the hardness starting to swell. The sights of bare flesh in these photos, of women with pert breasts, and lovely smiles. Of women in such compromising situations made his face flush hot.

He stood carefully, and tucked the photos back into the book. It had been long enough, he would have his wife tonight.

~ Ariadne was happy to notice her hair had grown out some from her impulsive cutting a year ago. One of the things she regretted most in her life was cutting her long mane of hair off. Arthur had always enjoyed her hair and when it was shorter, she felt oddly less attractive.

She carefully brushed out the painful snarls and worked in an oil to make it shine. Mrs. Marsh swore it would help it grow faster as well. A thing Ariadne wasn't sure she could believe.

She thought she might go to Arthur tonight and stay. She wanted to talk about what was bothering him. About how Charlie was crawling and how her speech was coming along. Her husband, even when tired, would always listen to her worries.

She wondered when she should be with him again. Her body felt so strange to her after Charlie's birth. It had been an unpleasant ordeal; giving birth. The midwife coming in and making Ariadne strip wholly naked and squat over a tin tub for most of it. Gravity helping the baby to turn and come out. The process of bringing babies into the world was a great burden and embarrassing as well.

Then there was pain that lasted for days on end. The aches, and her whole body swelling and turning into something she had no control over.

But in the past month, she felt more normal. Her son seemed to want to eat more solid foods which gave his mother a much needed break from feeding.

She was about to throw on a robe and sneak out to her husband's room when there was a harsh knock on her door.

Mrs. Marsh had a more gentle knock as did the nanny. It could only be Arthur.

She felt her heart race slightly. Her husband almost never came to her room. Not once since Charlie had arrived. Funny ears and all.

She hesitated before answering it. Sometimes, things still felt so new and awkward with Arthur. Like they were strangers living in the same house.

"Arthur?" she whispered as she opened the door and he silently slipped in. The hallway was dark and Mrs. Marsh and the nanny were no doubt asleep.

"Did I wake you?" he said in a hard voice. His tone had taken on a breathless, needy quality.

"No, I was having a bath." she explained and took a step back. A fear gripping her belly.

"What's wrong?" she whispered.

Her husband closed the door behind him and his eyes grazed over her.

"Ariadne, it's been long enough." he said in a cold, demanding voice.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

~ "Have you been drinking?" she asked as he stalked to her, his large hands touched the fabric of her night gown. Instinctively, she stepped away again as his hands went around her waist.

"A little." he admitted with a deep sigh and she could smell whiskey on his breath. Her skin sensed that his body was tight with repressed needs and a hunger that wanted to be satisfied.

"Arthur." she managed to say soberly as he started to kiss her neck. She felt a delightful rush of happiness race through her body at the contact.

She knew he loved her. Knew that he absolutely adored her when he kissed her like this. She tried not to giggle as her head started to spin from happiness. He was pulling her body close to him, muttering how she smelled good, that he was lonely, that he needed her when she felt the hardness of him on her hip.

A sharp cramp made her flinch. The memories of labor and delivery of Charlie came rushing back. With them, the days and weeks after when she had been so sore and tired. Her poor body exhausted and spent  
>"Wait." she whispered.<p>

"No." he said stubbornly and continued to kiss her neck. His hand slipping inside her night dress and cupping a tender breast.

"Arthur." she flushed and pulled away.

He was breathing hard and for a moment, she thought he was angry at her for stopping.  
>"I <em>need<em> you." he said roughly.  
>"I think it's too soon." she whispered and buttoned up her night dress. Her nipples becoming hard from the sudden contact of a demanding mate.<p>

"Are you still…" he asked discreetly. Good manners making him shy to such matters of the female body after a baby.  
>"Not as much." she admitted. She didn't relish the idea of having Arthur take her like he used to. Her husband was a wonderful lover, but he wasn't subtle.<p>

"I'll be gentle." he said huskily. "I promise."

"Arthur, please." she said as his hands were on her again. Wanting to feel her breasts, Wanting to touch her all over. "It's just too soon."

He pulled away from her. A look of anger flashing in his eyes.

"I see." he said at last. "It's been several months since Charles was born."

His voice was cold and professional in it's detachment.

"I know." she said meekly. "We can stay in the same bed… if you want."

Her offer seemed insufficient and he shook his head.

"No." he said at last. "I want my wife. Are you afraid I'll hurt you?"

She had no response for that and only shook her head. Couldn't he see she wasn't as attractive anymore? Everything on her was swollen and sore and disfigured. She hadn't felt any kind of urge except to eat and sleep lately. Relations with her husband were the last thing she cared about.

"Why won't you tell me what's wrong, Arthur?" she asked instead. "You came home tonight wanting the sitting room put back so Charlie has no place to play. You've been in a bad mood all evening."

"Nothing's wrong." he said too quickly.

"You used to tell me things." she whispered softly.

"Ariadne, you wouldn't understand." he said at last. "It's not for ladies-"

"Arthur." she interrupted. She wasn't about to buy into that old excuse.

She expected her husband to argue with her more, but he shook his head and let his fingers trail into the dark locks of hair that were still damp from her washing.

"I'm glad your hair is growing out." he said simply.

She could feel a blush creep over her face as her husband was mesmerized by her hair.  
>"Ariadne, there are other ways to satisfy me." he whispered in her ear even though they were alone.<p>

As soon as he said this, her skin prickled with heat. She knew, of course she knew what he meant. Arthur had a vivid imagination when it came to carnal things. How he came up with these ideas, she had no clue.

"Don't send me back to my room like this." he whispered in her ear and pressed her had to his groin. She could feel his erect member through the cloth of his pants and her belly cliched tightly as the thought of how he would ravage her.

She trembled slightly.

"What… what do you want?" she asked.

"Your mouth." he whispered. "Like you did before. You know I loved it."

"Arthur." she gasped and tried to pull away. Her husband's hands holding her body close to him. Preventing her escape.

She couldn't deny, didn't want to deny, the need to satisfy him. He was so easy to please at times, even if the act was bizarre to her.

"Please?" he whispered.

She pretended to think about it. Try to give him an act of hesitation before 'reluctantly' giving in. She bit down on her bottom lip, looked shy and embarrassed as he was pulling her to him. His whispered pleas for affection making her skin heat up as his breath tickled her ear.

'_Make it good_.' she told herself as he guided her to the bed.

She had serviced him a few times before. He had always enjoyed it, although she never understood why. Her husband was so eager as he unfasten his belt and pants and sat on the edge of her bed, his wife settle on her knees in front of him.  
>"I love you." he whispered as she thrust her hands into the fabric of his pants to find his member.<p>

She was never shocked anymore to find him erect. She had been married to him for over a year now, been his lover and had his child. His anatomy didn't shock her like it used to. Still, there were things she had to learn.

She stroked his hardness gently at first, teasing him as his own large hands showed her how hard he wanted her to grip. How firm and how quick her movements needed to be.

She liked to see him like this. For a man, he was in a very helpless position just now. Like he was her willing slave. He would do anything for her as long as she satisfied him.

The thought made her smile a little, and she licked the head of his maleness just to torment him.  
>"Mrs. Brandon." he warned. His voice labored as her hands went back to pumping him steadily.<p>

She only smiled sweetly and looked innocent.

Poor, Arthur. Poor man was breaking under his wife's abuse. She refused to give him all he wanted and he had to suffer as she stroked him, licked his shaft without taking him all in her mouth, until his hands were in her hair, wanting to pull her lips over his member.  
>"Please." begged roughly as she only kissed the head of his need.<p>

"Please, what?" she asked innocently.

"You know what." he said in a dark gravel like voice.

"Oh, darling, I'm afraid I don't." she said and licked his head again. "Is this what you want?"

Her breath and lips started to kiss his shaft all the way down. Her poor husband shaking and taking a firmer grip of her hair.

"Or this?" she mewed up at him.

She was like a cat, with a mouse just now. Playing, teasing her prey before the kill.

"Ariadne." he groaned.

"Or this." she whispered happily as she parted her lips over his head and started to suck him as hard as she could. She refused at first to take all of him in. She kept just his head in and could feel his response to her by the way his hips almost jumped off the bed. Trying to shove himself deeper into her mouth. His hands in her hair as he tried to push her further.

Somehow, she resisted. Her finger nails raking his shaft as she only sucked and licked his head.  
>"Damn it, woman!" he bellowed angrily and she knew she had broken him at last.<p>

With a sweet sense of victory, she took him. Her mouth taking in as much of him as she could. Her teeth respectfully moved back as she sucked, up and down on his member. Her poor husband, a broken man now, panting in exhaustion at her torture.

She didn't stop with just one part of his anatomy. Arthur had insisted she learn how to truly satisfy him as her free hand gently cupped the tender sack at the base of his erection. He was sensitive there, and could only stand so much before he exploded.

He was panting hard and she could feel his hands shake as he pulled her hair up and then back down at a faster pace. He was close and he wanted her to go faster.

She obliged, making her mouth something for him to enjoy. Allowing him to use her till she felt him sharply spasm. His entire body jerking and almost ripping her hair out.

She felt him explode and didn't have time to pull away before the taste of him, salty, wet and too hot was in her mouth.

She had swallowed some of him and was coughing violently as his own hands went to finish her work. Her face polluted with his climax and her hair and nightgown soiled with evidence of their perversion.


	4. Chapter 4

4.

~ Arthur immediately attacked her.

"I'm sorry." he panted trying to clean off the aftermath of his satisfaction. He was on his knees beside her, trying to smooth away his misfortunate miscalculation.

Ariadne blinked stupidly. The taste of him was still in her mouth and she felt some breech of manners had occurred on his part.

"I'm so sorry." he whispered in her ear. "I didn't mean to."

She nodded slowly and tried not to think about how her skin and night dress were now covered in his hot ejaculate. Nothing like this had happened since they had been married. Arthur had always been so controlled. She had trusted him without fail to know when he was close. To warn her before such a thing could happen.

"Ariadne." he was saying over and over again. She blinked, her mind too numb for words and looked up at him.  
>"Thank you." he whispered "That was wonderful."<p>

"Oh." was all she was able to say in return.

"Let me take care of you." he said gently.

She didn't fail to notice that he had fastened his pants again. He had hidden all evidence of his own lust, while she was still a mess.  
>"What?" she asked.<p>

"Lay on the bed." he ordered.

His hands went to her hair, and he was kissing her lips and face. Her skin still burning with shame and shock at what he had unleashed on her just moments before.

She complied simply because she didn't know what else to do. Her husband was always the one to come up with ideas in these matters. He was always the one to guide her.

"Arthur!" she cried out as he made quick work of pulling off her night dress. She tried to stop him, but he was so much stronger than her. She hadn't bothered with any under garments after her bath, and quickly tired to shield her breasts from him.

Arthur would never be deterred that easily.  
>"Arms down." he said in a harsh tone. "Let me take care of you."<p>

She tried to grab her night gown back, but her malicious husband held it away. The air on her naked skin, still hot with humiliation, felt cool. She gave her husband an angry look before letting her arms fall to her side.  
>"Don't question me." he said coldly, but his eyes were alight with mischief.<p>

Tempted, she did as he asked. Her modesty, ever inconvenient, made her unfold the bedding, before climbing in and covering up.

She heard her husband chuckle as she secured her covers over her naked body.

"Always the lady." he observed. "Always the prude."

"I think I disproved that tonight, sir." she countered.

He nodded in agreement before throwing off her covers, and starting his assault.

~ In her wildest dreams, Ariadne could not have imagined such a thing. Didn't understand at first what he was doing when he tore her bedding off and forced open her legs. He didn't try to take her, as she had expected, but was instead met with a very curious, tactful contact.

Arthur's hands, callused, strong and warm were touching her. She gasped slightly at the feel of his fingertips tracing over her wetness. She was surprised she was already aroused. Normally, when servicing him, she always thought it was more for his pleasure and not hers. But she was clearly already pooling with lust as her husband tickled her folds into submission.

"Arthur?" she questioned as she longed for him to kiss her.

He wouldn't have recovered so quickly as to take her. He had powerful needs, but not so strong as to rebound in just minutes.

"You looked so beautiful." he was whispering. "We really must have your photograph taken sometime."

"What?" she giggled as his fingers danced over her heated desire. He was rubbing her tenderly now. His hands caressing her most intimate parts.  
>"Maybe I could buy my own camera." he said to himself. "Take pictures of you."<p>

She wondered what he was getting at when she felt a hot, wet wave of delight rush through her body. Unsure of what to do, she cried out and tired to snap her legs shut.

Arthur's head was between her legs, his hands preventing her from closing off access to him. His hands pushing her thighs down.

It was too much for her to handle. Her sex seemed to bloom and grow like fire left unchecked. Her skin turned hot as his mouth tickled over that mysterious place he seemed to control so well.

His breath, panting like a dogs' would, and his facial hair scratching at such tender pink flesh made it all the more unbearable.

"Arthur!" she hissed angrily.

He ignored her and pushed her legs down, till she had no other option but to grab his hair in retaliation.

Without realizing it, she pushed his face into her wetness even more. She could feel his breathing, feel the heat of his breath and mouth dancing and tickling her. Fell him penetrate her this way till she started to squeal.

Her flesh was on fire and the covers were too hot. Her nipples perked up in sympathy to the rest of her body and she shuddered in delight.

Happiness, the kind she had forgotten after Charlie was born, ragged through her body.

"Arthur, please!" she begged as his fingers took over the work of his mouth and her crawled to her. His lips tasting her naked flesh till he finally reached her erect nipples.

She was still tender from nursing Charlie, but her husband, her tormenter, didn't seem to care. He kissed her hard nipples and bit them slightly making her body shake.

Volts of electrify seemed to jolt though her. Her toes were curling when he abused her like this. Her climaxes coming so rapidly, she barely noticed him sliding himself into her.

He was hard again already. His maleness slipping in and out of her with such dominance, she could do nothing to stop it.

Arthur had pulled her up by the hips and we using her like she was just an object. Allowing her breasts to bounce with each thrust and he took her.

He used her body for his own needs. There was no other was to describe it. He wasn't kissing her anymore, just subjecting her to relentless pounding with a renewed energy and lust she had never seen on him before.

Thankfully, she was wet enough to take him. Her own body hot and willing to have him as he drove himself in again and again.

He didn't last as long this time. He let out a pitiful groan of completion. His face contorted as she could feel him climax. The heated places between their legs, a mess of hot wet body fluids now.

He fell back on top of her. His breathing labored as if he had been running.

Woman's instinct kicking in, she cradled him in her arms as he laid on top of her. Their bodies sweating and exhausted. Arthur was still in his day clothes.

"Thank you." he managed to gasp at last.

She kissed his temple and felt him start to fall asleep in her arms. He made his normal snoring sounds just before she drifted off as well.

~ He whole body felt heavy and sore as dreams chased her into wakefulness.

"Ariadne?" he husband was whispering. "It's morning."

She let out a groan and hid her face in Arthur's chest. He had fallen asleep in his clothes. An unheard of thing for him. He didn't even remove his shirt when they had made love. She grinned shamefully at the memory of last night.

"I'm still mad at you." she told him sleepily.

"Over my faux pas?" he offered and she knew he was teasing her.

"Yes." she said stubbornly.

Her bedroom was still dark even with the approaching dawn.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked.

She finally opened her eyes to see him. His face worried and kind as he brushed back a errant strand of hair.

"No." she said truthfully.  
>"Are you sure?" he asked.<p>

She only smiled as she looked at him.

"Charlie has you your ears." she whispered.

"How unfortunate for Charlie." he mused dryly.

"He's so wonderful, Arthur. He's the best thing I've ever done."

"I won't have you mothering the boy too much." he sighed.

"I was thinking of dressing him in pink and renaming him Mary." Ariadne teased.  
>"You will not." Arthur said and she delighted in the knowledge that she could so easily anger him.<p>

She was smiling and Arthur slowly realized she was only joking.  
>"I'll have to go to work today." he whispered. His lips on her shoulder. "What will you do?"<p>

"I have letters to write." she told him. "That horrible Mr. Horn and his oppression of Irish workers needs to make the papers."

"What?"

"He hires children as young as five and has them work in dangerous factories twelve hours a day. He makes families live in these horrible slums and charges them for it. The city needs to know what he's doing." she told him.

"Ariadne, do not write to Victor Horn or to the papers about him." Arthur ordered.

"Why not?" she laughed.  
>"Because I said so."<p>

"That's not a good enough reason."

"It's going to have to be. Victor Horn is very powerful and he's well regarded in our social circles." Arthur snapped.

"For basically using slave labor." she retorted.  
>"Ariadne. Do NOT write anything to or about Victor Horn." he ordered.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

5.

~ Ariadne tried to gather her concentration and ignore the pink roses Arthur had sent her that morning as an apology for last night.

They had arrived, via carrier in a plain box and she had the right to trim and arrange them as she liked. Arthur was always one to accept defeat with grace.

She had placed them on the dinning table, well out of reach of Charlie, and started her letter.

_'Mr. Victor Horn,_

_Your actions of late can no longer be tolerated by the decent people of this city or country. Your abuse of the poor and needy will not stand. You've taken advantage immigrants, reducing them to nearly slave labor. You've installed yourself as a part of a dictatorship which our government will not stand for-'_

She scowled at the ink blot that had suddenly appeared on the pristine cream paper. Her pen leaking a little and spoiling the whole effect.

She was never very accomplished at writing with pen and ink. She had always made a mess of her own writing and her teachers had grown so frustrated with her, they made her write only in pencil. Arthur could write swift, boring letters of business and personal correspondence with ease. All in ink, without even trying. His neat little cursive without so much as a blob bleeding through.

She sighed and wished for a better system. Writing in pencil wouldn't do, the newspaper wouldn't take her seriously. It had to be in ink, on her very expensive personal stationary she had gotten as a birthday present last year.

Her initials were stamped in gold at the top and the paper was wonderful and heavy. But she was not suited for writing this way.

She tore up the letter and tossed it aside. The writing had to be perfect. She would try again.

~ Arthur stretched out in his favorite chair. This was the best time of day. The evening sun had set, street lights were on. Mrs. Marsh was cooking dinner and his wife and son were settled neatly on the sitting room rug. The baby chewing the face of his new teddy bear.

"Do you like the roses?" Arthur asked as his wife tried to encourage Charlie to crawl. The baby, like his mother, wasn't about to do anything he didn't want to.

"Very much." she told him.

"It was an apology for my ungentlemanly conduct last night." he said. His skin felt hot at mentioning it again. His wife had been so beautiful, he didn't even want to leave her that morning. It felt like they had found something they had lost after Charlie as born.

Ariadne avoided looking at him.

"And you think flowers will do for an apology?" she asked. Her attention wholly on Charlie.

"Arn't they?"

She rolled her eyes and he could see a slight smile coming to her face.

"How was you day?" she asked instead.

"Very busy." he sighed. "There is never enough time to do the things I want. The way this country is moving forward, we won't know ourselves in another fifty years."

"Let's hope so." she added. "I want the world Charlie inherits to be nothing like this one."

"You may want for another world, dear, but I happen to like this one exactly as it is." he snapped.

"You only like it because it benefits you as it excludes others. Think if you were on the losing end. If you had to work in a factory-"

"Then I would work my way up to foreman and then owner." he interrupted. "Advancement is there for the taking. There are those who just want a hand out."

"Oh, yes." Ariadne chuckled as she picked up Charlie and held him close. "People leave their homes, their families just so they can live in sheer poverty, work twelve to sixteen hours a day, six days a week and still look for a hand out."

Arthur wanted to say something, but sensed Ariadne wouldn't see reason.  
>"Immigrants come to this country looking for opportunity. It's here if they want it." he said.<p>

"That's the thing, it's not." she told him. "It's not there for women, or for children in the factories who miss school. It's work all day and still not make ends meet."

"I don't know who talks to you about this."

"No one." she snorted. "It's in the papers. The times have been doing a serious review on all the workers and your friend Mr. Horn is the worst criminal of them all."

It seemed that was it. The discussion was over. Mrs. Marsh appeared a few moments later and the nanny took Charlie.

"Oh, Mrs. Marsh." Ariadne said when she gave the fussy Charlie over to his nanny. "There are some personal letters I need mailed in the morning. You'll be going by the post office on yur way to market, right?"  
>"Yes, ma'am." Mrs. Marsh said happily.<p>

"To whom are you writing?" Arthur asked.  
>"Some old school friends." Ariadne said airily. "News about Charlie and the decor of the nursery."<p>

"I see." Arthur said grumpily. "And what news is that?"

"Things that women find interesting." Ariadne told him. "I like to hear about their families and children. They like to give me advice about Charlie and hear about his progress."

Arthur nodded, pretending to understand, but didn't.

It seemed to take forever for Mrs. Marsh to leave them in peace. Arthur anxiously waiting for the older woman to leave before he whispered.

"I was thinking you might stay with me tonight." he said and looked for Mrs. Marsh to appear. "In my room."

Ariadne sat up, her dinner barely touched, her mouth opened in suprise.  
>"I had a busy day." she told him softly. "Tending to Charlie and all."<p>

"I see." he whispered. "Are you still angry with me?"

"No, not at all." she insisted and her cheeks flushed pink.

"I promise it won't happen again. Not like that." he insisted.

She looked away.

"I'm just tired, Arthur. I think I'll just read my book and go to sleep." she said at last.

Arthur had no choice but to leave her alone. He nodded and sat back in his chair. His body still longing for her as they ate dinner.

~ True to her word, Ariadne went strait to bed after dinner and he was alone to read the paper downstairs. He had hoped they could have some time to talk, but Ariadne seemed so distracted. Surely news about a baby and nursery decorating couldn't be that engrossing. Nor could any of her silly novels she liked to read.

Arthur felt his eyes twitch in tiredness and finally cast the paper aside in favor of sleeping.

The whole house was quite except for the ticking of the mantle piece clock. Mrs. Marsh and nanny had obviously gone to bed already.

He was most likely the only one still awake. He turned down the lights in the sitting room before noticing the collection of neatly addressed envelops sitting on the hall table.

He normally never cared about Ariadne's business with her old school friends. She wrote to them often about women's things, and he had no interest in them. But the sight of black ink instead of pencil on the expensive stationary caught his eye.

He knew his wife well enough to know she always wrote in pencil and never in ink.

He plucked up the top envelope and saw it was addressed to the local paper. Another was sent to the mayor of New York and even the governor.

Arthur could almost hear his heart racing as he tore open an envelope addressed to Victor Horn.

His anger rising at the idea Ariadne had so defied him.


	6. Chapter 6

6.

~ Ariadne had fallen asleep while writing a rough draft of more letters. She planned to send them to shops in the city who bought things from Mr. Horn's factories.

Her eyes were tired from all the reading and writing she had done that day and wondered how Arthur did it. He was always reading something or jotting something down. Her hands had been stained with black ink from her writing, but she had done it. Over twenty letters viciously attacking Mr. Horn and other factory owners in the city. As well as a few to very prominent members of government.

She was very proud of herself and the hopeful change they would bring. Maybe the governor didn't even know about the factories. That was always possible, although the newspapers were always reporting it. Mary and her women's group were always talking about the plight of the children in factories. That it was a woman's duty to defend all children of this world.

On that thought, Ariadne dreamed of Charlie. How the little baby with his funny ears and big eyes, was her contribution to the world. How she could mold him into becoming the kind of man who would change the world. How she should start talking to him about politics and human rights as soon as possible.

Because he was male, he could make a difference, and thusly, she had made a difference. She dreamed of Arthur being angry that she had raised their son to be like this, and the thought made her smile.  
>"Ariadne." came a cold, demanding voice.<p>

She opened her eyes and fear ripped through her body. She knew Arthur's voice when she heard it.

She had curled in bed with her papers, notebooks and news articles around her. A perfect nest of evidence should her husband come in.

Immediately, she sat up and faced the demon.

"What time is it?" she asked sleepily.

"Have you written to Mr. Horn?" he asked by way of an answer.

"What?"

"Have you written to Mr. Horn?" he asked again. His voice now casual.

"I…" she had to lie and do it quickly.

"Let me make it simple for you. You _did_ write to Mr. Horn and several other factory owners whom I see everyday. You've also taken the liberty of writing to the governor and mayor." he snapped. His face now pulled into an angry scowl.

Ariadne shrank back from him. She had never seen him this mad before. He was always a little cross with her. That was the nature of their relationship; but he restrained that anger like any gentleman would. Now, now he looked at her with such loathing, she felt she had wounded him beyond repair.

"I did." she said bravely. "I wrote to them."

"After I forbade you not to." he breathed. She saw he was holding one of her letters in his hands. The expensive stationary wrinkled from him clutching it so hard.  
>"You've opened my mail?" she breathed.<br>"You disobeyed me." he snapped.  
>"You opened my letters to other people? How dare you!" she claimed. Her body remembered to move again and she was out of bed and trying to grab her letter away from him.<p>

Arthur quickly held it aloft in a childish game of keep away.

"Do you realize that our social standing would be ruined if these letters were mailed? That Charlie's chances to be received in polite society would be gone if you had, once again, gone on to make a spectacle of yourself?" his voice was cool and dangerously calm.

"How would it hurt Charlie to tell the world the truth? Other people do it!" she hissed before finally stanching back her stationary. The paper ripped in places and needing re-writing.

"Those people are not us. They have nothing to lose. Your realize I represent Mr. Horn's business? How would it look if my wife sends out scathing letters to the public about him. I told you to leave Mr. Horn alone. I told you to give up this obsession you have for trouble and you willingly defy me at every turn!"

His face had come so close to hers, she was afraid he might hit her.

"Don't!" she snarled back and tried to pull away.

His hands were gripping her arms tightly and refusing to let her move away.

"Ariadne!" he growled.

"I'm not your servant, Arthur. You can't command me like you would a maid." she spat back.

"You are my wife. You're duty is to keep my life, my house and my name honorable." he said darkly.

He suddenly released her and she felt a pain go off in her heart. She regretted writing those letters now. The look on his face was one of deepest hurt.

"I've treated you with honor and love. I've respected you and your modern ideas to the point I've been made a laughing stock. Why can't you do the same? Why can't you bend a little?" he whispered.

Ariadne opened her mouth to say something. Her torn letter was clutched to her chest.

Her cause was worth fighting for. Without someone to say something is wrong, evil will aways win. How could he not see that?

She wasn't able to speak as she watched her husband angrily remove his belt. Her first instinct was that he wanted to take her to bed again, but she quickly realized he had something else in mind.

"What are you doing?" she croaked.

A strange sense of giddiness racing through her at the memory of what her husband used to do with a similar leather strap. All of this was before their son was born of course. Her husband had been nothing but a gentleman after the baby arrived. Treating his wife as though she were fragile and not a woman at all.  
>"You know what I'm doing." Arthur said in a dark voice. His eyes refusing to meet hers as she automatically backed away from him.<p>

"Arthur, I'm not just your wife anymore." she panted. Part of her wanting to avoid his abuse, another part of her longed for it. "I've given birth to your son. I'm… I'm a mother now."

"A mother who needs to be more focused on our son than in politics." he retorted. "Take your night dress off."  
>"No." she told him defiantly.<p>

Arthur's eyes snapped to attention and finally looked at her.

"I promise, when this is done, it will be over." he said softly.

"Unless you feel I've defied you again." she huffed. Her words dripping with sarcasm and her desire became hot with anticipation.

"You _did_ defy me." he said smoothly. "Now, take off your night dress."

She wanted to argue, but her body, her long neglected body, overruled her. Her skin already felt hot and her face was flushed. Arthur never made love to her like he did after times like these. Not that she defied him on purpose. Did she?

Without another word, she slipped off her night dress, and let it fall to the floor. Her naked skin exposed to him without shame.

"Turn-" Arthur tried to say but his voice broke slightly. "Turn around. Your back to me."

Ariadne was breathing hard as she did as he said. What would this time be like? Would he swat her with innocent, teasing punishments then make love to her? Or, given the harsh nature of her supposed crimes, would he really hurt her?

She could sense him standing away from her. She had hoped that he would spank her with his bare hands. A practice she had always enjoyed because it wasn't painful and he was closer to her. But her husband stood away. His body language indicating he didn't want to be around her, or even touch her. She heard the leather belt sing through the air before it hit her buttocks and back with a cruel, burning sting.


	7. Chapter 7

7.

~ Ariadne jumped and tried not to cry out in pain. The stinging slap of his belt burned her buttocks and made the rest of her flesh hot with embarrassment.

Arthur had always played this game of theirs with a certain sense of affection. He had made her feel positively giddy with excitement each time and made her secretly want more.

Now, it was different. It was hostile and rude. No love or affection was between them now.

She bit her lip hard as the belt lashed across her bottom again and covered her chest with both arms. This wasn't the intimate, teasing fight they had before. Arthur was angry and he was hurting her.

"Do you understand?" Arthur said suddenly. His voice was bitter and wavered a little.

"Yes." she whispered.  
>"Good." he muttered and she listened hard, waited for him to hit her again. Waited for him to approach her with his hands. Hands that might lightly slap her on the bottom again. Hands that would hold her down as they made angry love.<p>

Not that she would let him. She was flushed with anger at the moment. Her pride and body wounded.  
>"No more letters. Ever." he said darkly.<p>

She only sniffed as she heard him leave her room. Her flesh stinging her from the violence that was over as soon as it started.

When she heard her door shut, heard his feet marching down the hall and his own bedroom door shut, she allowed herself to cry softly.

Her night dress felt uncomfortable back on her body. Her buttocks still hot to the touch as she dug out her regal stationary and started to re-write her letter to Mr. Horn.

Oddly enough, her hands were shaking, but her writing was clean in the ink she had so much trouble with. Her sentences flowing out of her with more passion than ever before.

~ Arthur almost collapsed in his reading chair back in his room. His erection becoming painful now that he had left his wife. She had looked beautiful in front of her fireplace. Her pale, naked, skin was luminous before him. The curves of her bottom, her slender back, and her dark hair falling over. She was always like something out of a fairytale.

He let out a long sigh of frustration. His temper had gotten the better of him. He hadn't meant to hurt her like he did. Didn't mean to take it so far. Her skin had turned red at the contact of his belt and he instantly regretted his actions. Before, she had tormented him with her defiance, but he wasn't as angry as he was now.

He had never been as angry as he was now. He hated that he had to strap her, but such a thing couldn't be helped. He couldn't afford a wife who continued to disgrace him. It didn't matter that she was beautiful and intelligent. It didn't matter that she had given him a perfect son.

He felt a slight headache come on and tried to think of something else. He wished he wasn't so mad all the time. Wished he had enough money and influence so that Ariadne could be herself. He was well off, but his clients would shy away from him if word continued to spread about how willful his wife was. If he couldn't control her, what else couldn't he control?

He ran a hand over his crotch and felt the hardness demanding to be satisfied.

He found the ever trusty book where he hid his pictures and quickly flipped to the most salacious.

A small woman with dark hair, not nearly as beautiful as Ariadne, sitting on a couch. Her body was a little too oddly proportioned for Arthur's taste, but she was naked and had a happy smile on her face. Her hands were bound behind her back, displaying her large breasts.

Arthur read the story that went with the pictures. A story of how she didn't cook dinner and had to be punished.

_Punished_. The word sent a shiver of happiness through him as he watched the scene change. The girl, still smiling, was laying face down on a bed.

Arthur started pumping himself lightly.

The girl, still tied up being struck with a ridding crop. Her smile still plastered on her face. He wanted Ariadne. He wanted to do this to her. Wanted her to enjoy it like this girl was. Wanted her to smile and her body be warm and ready for him.

The girl was leaning over a chair to receive more 'Punishment' as a faceless man spanked her with his bare hands. Spanked her with the ridding crop and always, always, she was smiling. After her punishment, the story ended with the well endowed girl cooking dinner totally naked. Her smile as bright as ever.

What wouldn't he give to do this to Ariadne? To see her small body, tied to perfection as she willingly took a punishment from him. He felt heat rushing over his body and before he could stop it, he was climaxing into his handkerchief.

His head hurt from images of the ugly woman in the pictures. He had no desire for her other that what she was doing. He had totally lost interest in her now an was ashamed he had become aroused.

He longed for his wife. He loved Ariadne for her defiance, but wanted her to submit to him at the same time.

He threw his handkerchief away, carefully hid his pictures again and went to bed. His dreams now troubled with images of a beautiful, faceless girl, with dark hair. She was laughing at him as he punished her.

**Sorry for the long absence. I've been working on rewriting some of my stories. **


	8. Chapter 8

8.

~ Ariadne sulked as Rosalyn Chase held and clumsily coddled Charlie. The baby was at the enjoyable age now where he could smile and respond to his world. He was trying to stand on Rosalyn's lap and didn't like it when anyone but his mother or nanny held him.

"Oh, he's lovely." Rosalyn decided smiling sweetly at Charlie.

Ariadne managed a weak smile. She wasn't sure what to do with herself after the unpleasantness of last night. Her bottom still hurting from Arthur's whipping. Her pride more than anything, sorely abused.

"I wish my boys were this age again. I loved those moments when nanny brought them to me. All clean and rested. Then we would have company and I would show them off. If they grew bothersome, I just handed them back to nanny!" Rosalyn laughed. "Motherhood is so taxing."

Ariadne couldn't see this woman having four boys and a girl. The boys were all at boarding school now. Had been shipped away at the age of five or six. An age when, according to polite society, the male child mustn't be coddled too much by women, but made ready for the world.

"Was it hard sending the boys away? Seeing them only for Christmas and summer holidays?" Ariadne asked. She couldn't imagine not seeing Charlie, funny ears and all, everyday.

"Not at all." Rosalyn laughed. "I had enough to deal with. What with running the home, attending to ladies meetings. I was relived to send them off. You will be to, when the time comes."

"I don't think Arthur and I will send Charlie off." Ariadne said and reached for her baby.

Rosalyn Chase wasn't a friend of her own choosing. Their husbands worked together and Arthur approved of her spending time with a woman like Rosalyn. A woman who had children, who ran a very fine home. Who made her husband look good, and bore him four rowdy boys who would one day run the world.

In short, Rosalyn was meant to be Ariadne's role model.

Ariadne looked at the middle aged woman, as she handed Charlie back. She wasn't terrible nurturing, and hadn't seen her children in months. Yet, she was always going Ariadne advice about Charlie to the point where the young mother was fit to scream.

"I think Arthur will have Charlie to go to his former school. It's where he and Reggie first met. Where my own boys are now." Rosalyn informed her as she smoothed down her skirts. Careful that the baby, clean or not, hadn't messed anything up.

"I don't think-" Ariadne started to argue.

"And where was it you said you went to finishing school, dear?" Rosalyn asked lightly. A knowing tone of mockery in her eyes.

Ariadne knew exactly what she was driving at. Rosalyn had attended a very refined girls finishing school that put her in the path of eligible bachelors with means. She was accomplished at needle work, water colors, piano, the harp, singing, dancing, most modern languages and romantic literature. Ariadne had, reluctantly, attended a less cultured school in the city. She was taught the civil arts of being female, but couldn't claim the same education as her new peer group.

"See, it is important we get our children off on the right foot." Rosalyn said. "What, with the world changing as it is. Immigrants with their filthy ways and all. Taking over the public schools that we pay for. Creating a gutter class that is living so close to our own. It's disgusting to think my own son's might bring home some Irish girl or worse." she shook her head in worry. "That's why we have to educate them now. Send them to the right schools, to the right universities, set them to meet the right kind of girl, the right connections. You don't want Charlie here to slave away in some book keeping office supporting a loud mouth Irish whore with a litter of crying brats at home do you?"

Ariadne shifted uncomfortably. She didn't like it when Rosalyn spoke like this. The woman was so devoutly opposed to immigration and suffrage, that Ariadne always felt out numbered somehow.

"So, you must listen to Arthur when he talks about schooling for your own little prince. He must be sent to a proper school. One where he will be around his own class. Where the teachers and head masters will keep him disciplined. You and I, all mothers in fact, are too soft hearted with our children. That's why it's best to have them raised by professionals. Make them ready to lead the world." The older woman added with a smile of affection.

"What about Julia?" Ariadne asked weakly. She clutched Charlie tighter. "Your daughter?"

"Well, she's to be taught at home till she's ready to go to finishing school." Rosalyn laughed. "Girls are different. They need to be coddled and protected at home. Kept away from the influence of others until they are older."

"And what if some finishing school makes Julia join the suffrage movement?" Ariadne challenged. "Like you said; the world is changing. What if one of your sons marries and Irish woman who believes in suffrage? What if your new daughters in law are actually educated in the world?"

Ariadne tried not to shiver as Rosalyn cast her an icy glare.

"What will you talk about then?" she asked as Charlie squirmed happily. The baby unaware of the cold change of subject.

~ Arthur came home right on time as always. He shook off his coat, put his hat on the entry hall mantle, and looked over the mail there. He was pleased to see no new letters for Ariadne. Perhaps she had gone through the post before he got home. He would have to speak to Mrs. Marsh.

For now, he was more troubled about what Reggie Chase had said at the club that afternoon. Apparently, Rosalyn had come to the office and expressed how she didn't want Ariadne to come to her home anymore. Reggie, good man that he was, laughed it off.

"Women. Never sensible. You'll see, they'll work it out and be plotting against us in a few days. Just like there're are supposed to. I suppose they had some silly disagreement over… over… baby things and such. You know, the kind of thing women are always talking about. I'm rather glad my Rosalyn has me sleeping in the other rooms these days. No more children and no more headaches. Except for my little Julia, of course. I think I'll keep her at home forever. Never let her get married. She's only eight of course, but already planning her wedding. She told me just the other day she wanted violets in her veil. I can't tell you how pleased I was. My little angel with a pillow slip on her head, instructing me how I'm to give her away."

Reggie smiled sadly.

"Will break my heart when the day finally comes. My Julia going away with some scoundrel. Come now, let's have a drink, play a hand before we have to go home to the women."

Arthur liked Reggie. He was a simple man who wasn't ready to judge like the other men at the club.

"Reggie, if you'll be discreet about the disagreement my wife had with yours." Arthur said quietly as he spied the older men at another table. Rumors about Ariadne, he arrest last year, her radical views, were things that were still whispered about.

"Of course, sir." Reggie laughed. "If you'll keep quite about the cow my wife can be. I can't tell you how ready I am to be dead and shut of her completely."

Now at home, he heard Charlie in the sitting room. The baby noises, the sounds of toys being knocked around. His wife's voice, happy as she played with her son.

"Charlie, knocking over all your blocks!" she teased the boy as he sat in front of her. The wooden blocks scattered around him. His arms pumping happily as though he had done something remarkable.

He watched them for several seconds. Ariadne, unaware that she was being observed. Or so he thought.

"How was your day?" she asked, her back to him. No doubt she had heard him come in.

"It was very nice. Till Mrs. Chase visited." Arthur said.  
>"Oh? That didn't take long." Ariadne said ideally.<p>

"Yes, something abut her sons marrying whores and becoming a member of the petticoat party. Being whipped by women in some obscene gender reversal." Arthur sighed as he sat in his chair and watched Charlie try to chew one of his wooden blocks.  
>"I said no such thing. That vial woman blew it out of proportion." Ariadne said.<p>

"Well, Reggie laughed it off. Only because he agrees she's vial." Arthur told her.

Ariadne was quite.

Arthur was quite.

Charlie gave out a cry that insisted his parents pay attention to him.

"Rosalyn says you'll send Charlie to boarding school." Ariadne said at last.

"I think right now he's a little young." Arthur told her. "Not even talking yet."

"Arthur, don't tease." Ariadne snapped.

She turned and looked at her husband. Her eyes, so large and bright with intelligence and feeling, he felt calmer.

"Is it true you plan to ship him off to some course school where he'll be whipped by brutal teachers? Made to learn latin and bullied by rich sons of privilege till he's no better than those horrible men in congress?" she asked.

"For your information, my dear." Arthur sighed. "I really haven't given much thought to his education."

She turned away from him.  
>"But yes, I would like him to go to my old school. It's a top rate institution-"<p>

"Institution." Ariadne huffed. "That's it precisely."

Arthur looked at his hands.

"I don't want to talk about something that is years away." he said at last.

She took Charlie's block away from him and said nothing.

"I want to talk about last night." he said at last.


	9. Chapter 9

9.

~ Ariadne only pretended to sulk while Arthur curled a tendril of her hair around his finger. The long, silk like tresses always fascinated him.

After they had put Charlie to bed, a new thing for both of them. Arthur had coaxed her to his rooms. Mrs. Marsh had left a cold dinner for them, even though neither one of them had any appetite.

Instead, they settled in his bed. Ariadne only slightly uncomfortable resting her head on his chest. She liked the sure, strong way he breathed. It was comforting to her, the rise and fall of his chest.

They had engaged in small talk. Updates about Charlie and the weather mostly. After that, a long silence fell on them as she listened to him breathing.

"People are starting to talk." he said at last.

Ariadne had found herself scowling at a painting in Arthur's room. A boring landscape with only grass and blobs for trees. She guess he overpaid for it. A dingy little painting any child could do.

"What?" she asked after several moments. She had heard him talk, but his words didn't seem to reach her. Her mind was too befuddled with other thoughts. About her women's group, that horrid Rosalyn Chase, Charlie going away to school, her letters, her classes in the humanities. Her mind had never been so full, or so distracted.

"I said; people are starting to talk." Arthur told her again.

"About?"

"About us." he said. A hot tone of anger in his voice.  
>"So? Let them. People will always talk." despite her protests, her curiosity was raised.<p>

"What do _they_ say?" she asked. Putting a special emphasis on the vagueness of they.

"_They_ say you're out of control. That a man who can't control his wife, is not to be trusted." he told her.

"Same as always." she sighed. "You knew you couldn't control me when you married me. You said you didn't want a plain, boring wife anyway."

"I don't." he agreed. "I do love your passion."

His fingers unlaced from her hair and roamed down to cup her breast. Ariadne tried not to smile.

"But I don't like your name talked about." he said stiffly. His large hand moving away from her breast and curling her freed hair into his fingers again.

"That hardly matters." she said stubbornly. "What matters is the good we do. That's all history will remember. History isn't made by silly wives who do water colors and gossip about Mrs. so-and-so's daughter in law."

"And happy husbands are not made by willful, disrespectful wives." he argued.

Ariadne moved away from him. Her eyes glaring at him with a fire fit to burst.

"It's always about your own happiness." she accused.  
>"My happiness is our happiness." he said. "I thought you would be content with… with your studies and with Charlie. I thought those things made you happy."<p>

"They do." she told him honestly. "But having Charlie made me think about what kind of world we're to leave for him. I don't want another privileged son shutting the doors of opportunity for people just because it might endanger the wealthy. The rich have enough money and influence, they don't need more. I want Charlie to be a better man than that."

"A better man than me?" Arthur challenged.

He and his wife exchanged cold looks.

"All parents want their children to be better." she whispered.

Her husband pulled away from her slightly. His eyes casting down to her small, perfect hands.

"I know that you feel you have to save the world, but you keep failing to see that is makes a laughing stock out of me. It will give Charlie a black mark on him before he can even talk." he said softly. His tone as though he were talking to an over excited horse.

She leaned away from him.

"Is that why you felt the need to beat me again?" she said fearlessly.

Arthur's eyes grew wide, but his jaw remained set.

"I didn't beat you." he said calmly.

"With a belt." she whispered.  
>"I disciplined you. I corrected your behavior." he said. A hot flush tinting his cheeks pink.<br>"With a belt." she repeated. "I would have thought being the mother to your son would have changed your feelings to me. That you would see me as something more… sacred."

"I would have thought being a sacred mother would mean you wouldn't go off picking fights you couldn't win." he snapped.

She gapped at him. Shocked he finally had the nerve to say it.  
>"You won't win the vote, Ariadne." he said at last. "Young women are making a spectacle of yourselves all over with this nonsense. It goes against the wisdom of the man of the house."<p>

"Man of the house?" she teased. She laughed as though what he said were truly funny. "You think that all this is because of the vote? It's much more than that, Arthur. When I see pictures of Child laborers in unsafe factories, I always see Charlie."

"That won't happen to Charlie." he interrupted.  
>"So, what? Because a mother is poor and has to send her child to work, she deserves to run the risk of losing him to fire or being mauled by those machines? All to put bread on her table? How is that mother different from me? How is Charlie different from other babies who grow sick and die because of poor health or living conditions."<p>

"The difference is the father." Arthur snapped. His dark eyes becoming dangerous. "The difference is that you and Charlie have me to care for you. A man isn't a man until he can provide for himself and his family. I prove for both of you and you will respect that."

Ariadne opened her mouth. She meant to argue more, but something much more intriguing came to mind instead.  
>"Or what?" she whispered. "What will you do if I keep defying you?"<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

10.

~ Arthur tried to keep his face calm as his lovely wife straddled his waist. He hadn't expected to have the evening become so suddenly delightful. Ariadne had been in a mood the last few days. A thing he decided must be that vague area only known as 'women's troubles' and ignored it.

But now, feeling the heat off her body, her pulsing desire resting gently on his lap, he decided she wasn't exactly suffering from any strange and horrific feminine processes.

"You don't know." she whispered. He didn't hear a word as his finger began to twine into her hair again. The light from the fire made her night dress almost see through, and he saw the body, rich and beautiful in that light. Her curves natural and fuller. The top buttons of her night dress already straining from the changes motherhood had given her.

He shifted slightly as his pants began to feel tight. He could actually sense the blood loss from his brain rushing down to his member. A thing that was growing harder and more responsive by the minute. Only thin fabric kept his prize away from him. He could have her so easily. His hand left her dark locks and cupped her breast.

His lovely wife, elegant and vibrant with her youth and wild with her ideas must have known what she was doing to him. Her legs were straddled over him as though he were a horse; his groin her saddle, fit for a scandalous ride.  
>"The future is changing and you don't know." she whispered. "There will come a day when man alone won't be the master of any house."<p>

With her snake like words, blood flushed hot and heavy through his veins and he slapped her buttocks as though she were a stray calf and not a woman at all. She jumped slightly at the slight abuse, but her body, her soft, warm body, soon came back to rest over his crouch again.

"That's enough of your back talk." he snarled. His large hand gripped tightly to her bottom. Had his nails had been longer, he would have screeched her flesh.

"No." she whispered, thusly earning another, swift and so delicious punishment. He slapped her bottom harder this time. Her hips rocked into his with a wonderful thrust that made his skin burn.

She was kissing him then. Her lips hot and wet while her delicate fingers undid the little pearl buttons of her night dress.

"I'm you're husband." he panted as she rocked over his lap. Their hands working together to free her to the cumbersome night dress. Her mouth tasting and teasing his. She smelled of the sweet lavender soap he had bought for her last week. It's raw essence filling his senses to overload.

"You're not my master." she whispered into his lips. He could feel the last remnant of her night dress fall away and his hands were on her bare breasts. Her nipples were pert and erect. Her skin, always fair, was now hot to the touch.

"Ari-" he gasped as he could feel the heat roll of her womanhood and penetrate past their clothing.

"I'm ready." she whimpered softly. "I know I've put you off for so long."

Her voice was of his sweet wife again. Not the rebellious woman who gave him such headaches. Not the voice of the beautiful mother of his son. Not even the voice of the lover he had so sorely missed. No, at the moment, her breath hot and perfect in his lips, she was the girl he had fallen in love with. The shy girl at her father's dinner table, too afraid to say a word. The girl who looked at him with worried eyes that were so large and dark, he feared he might drown in them.

"Arthur." she mewed again and he knew she was gaining some satisfaction from him just now.

His manhood had risen to the occasion and she was grinding her pelvis into him with ease. Her lovely face pink with happiness as he felt her ride his hardness without giving him anything in return.

"You're not getting away with it that easily." he whispered in her ear.

He felt, rather than saw his rebellious wife smile. She didn't fear him at all. But that would soon change.

"Put your hands behind your back." he ordered. His voice only a whisper in her ear and had no authority to it.  
>"No." she said with a playful grin. Her hips, that devil woman, were taking what she wanted. She mocked his mastery over her with that smile and refusal to do as he ordered.<p>

He grabbed a fist full of her hair, pulling her head back. Her gasp frightened him a little. He didn't want to hurt her. Never, never ever would he want that. He only wanted to… punish her a little.

"Put you hands… behind… your back." he said coldly.

He loved it. Loved the way the fire light illuminated her bare skin. Her naked breasts exposed for him to see like some kind of renaissance painting. Her dark hair was already wild and her night dress pooled around her hips.

She said nothing, only her breath came hard and steady. Her eyes speaking volumes of hatred and defiance as her chest rose and fell.

"Behind your head." he said again, and stripped off his neck tie.

How he would have her. How he would enjoy her. Never had she looked more beautiful. Not on their wedding day, not on their wedding night, not even when she bloomed with their soon to be son.

Just now, she looked like a beautiful muse, and he was the master. The idea sent a rush of sadistic pleasure though his body. He suddenly remembered the pictures he had hidden in the book. Of the homely girl being tied up and… disciplined. His heat quickened at the idea of his Ariadne like that. Of seeing her wrists bound together. Of her small, warm body lightly abused for her behavior.

He couldn't help wanting such a thing.

"Arthur?" she whispered worriedly as, with renewed energy, he was tiring her wrists together with her tie. "What are you doing?" she asked.

His tie made an efficient knot that would prevent her escape. Her arms now immobilized before her, he was free to do as he liked.

He kissed her nipple, a thing she hadn't let him do before and allowed his mind to come up with all the devilish ideas he had only seen pictures of.

His wife was now his for the taking.

**Sorry for the long absence. It's hard working a 40 hour week now. I just don't have as much down time and when I do, I like to sleep and read. Also, Netflix doesn't help. But the good news is i LOVE "Doctor Who" and BBC's "Sherlock"! Who knew? **


	11. Chapter 11

11.

~ Ariadne wasn't so sure about this. Her body felt warm and ready; responsive to him in ways that never stopped surprising her, but fear gripped her tightly in the belly as he secured her restraints.

"Relax." he whispered in her ear and she felt her blood race at the feel of warm breath on her skin.

"Arthur, what-" she mewed slightly as her husband maneuvered around her and slowly pushed the thin night dress off her hips.

She didn't want to smile as his large hand ran over her bottom. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing what that did for her. His lips were on her bare shoulder and her naked flesh burned with excitement. Her hands tired feebly to escape the bondage he had put on her and she was glad to see she could free herself, although they were tight enough to to merit a true restraint. He had given her the prion of stopping this little farce whenever she wanted.

Her flesh turned to fire when he gently slapped her bottom and then ran his long finger between the dampness that was quickly growing between her legs. His fingers rubbing and making teasing circles over that wonderful, secretive place on her body only he could ignite.

"Arthur?" she whispered weekly.

"Lay on you belly." he said softly in her ear.

"The belt." she told him. Her eyes tightly shut with embarrassment. Even now, her upbringing couldn't allow her to meet him in the eye.

"I won't use it on you. I promise." he said reassuringly.

"No." she said taking a deep breath to steady herself.

She opened her eyes to look back at him. Her body naked and her hands bound, but she knew her eyes were just as forceful and defiant as though she were on the picket line.

"No, I _want_ the belt." she hissed.

~ She tried to stay calm as he guided her body to lay, face down on his bed. With loving hands, he smoothed her hair off her face and secured a lock behind her ear. His touch always so careful when it came to her hair.

She was naked, all except the neck tie which kept her hands together in front. Like anticipating a special present, she eagerly awaited Arthur.

She felt him shift off the bed. Hear the wardrobe door open and the sounds of rustling as the leather shaving strap was removed from inside.

She kept her face relaxed when he crawled back on the bed beside her. The leather strap grazing over the back of her legs and her bare bottom. The rough leather teasing her naked flesh as he lightly made contact with her back.

"I promise I'll be gentle." he promised in a voice that broke with his restrained lust.

"I know." she whispered back to him.

He started with the lightest most delicate of contact. The strap making quick, sweet contact with her bottom. The feel of it almost like a kiss.

"Oh." she breathed and her hips rose slightly in the air. Her fingers curled around the sheets of his bed and she longed to have his warm body melding with hers again.

The next blow was a little sharper and his hands smoothed away the stinging sensation that each blow left.

'_I deserve this_.' she thought to herself as her body growled with delight. Her face was flushing hot as he slapped her lightly with the belt again and again. She was grateful that her hands were bound and entrained herself with ideas she was his prisoner.

A smile was coming easily to her face at the idea of her all her morals and high ideals were so easily forgotten under the power of their shared passion. She felt like an animal in heat now. Her body craving the satisfaction of raw, naked male. Of needing the rustic, impureness of man who always took what he wanted.

He was spanking her now without apology and she had long ago forgotten any semblance of lady like decorum. She, in her frenzied state and risen on her hands and knees, presenting herself for abuse. Her bottom lifting upward for him, her womanhood squirming with unsatisfied delight at the savagery. Her face burning with the power of the wonderful humiliation.

"Do you like your punishment?" he was saying and she couldn't understand a word of it. All things civilized were gone now as she felt she might die from the heat raging through her body.

She _did_ like her punishment. She would rather die than admit it, but there was something There was something so blissful in surrendering herself to the savagery of a man. To be an object for him to use. The throw herself and her whole gender's progress backwards by allowing him such dominance.

She vaguely sensed what he was doing now. Her spanking had stopped and her bottom was still stinging like sharp little pins on her flesh. She felt his long, strong fingers savagely explore between her legs, and, like an animal, he started to mount her from behind.

His fingers were in her hair, pushing her face back down into the pillow as he forced her bottom upwards to meet him. She could feel he had no clothing on and the hard, needful thing between his own legs was released and rubbing itself on the bottom he had beaten raw.

She knew he would take her this way. Perhaps the illusion of civility was just that, an illusion. Perhaps they were no better than dogs on the street. She felt her inner walls barely protest as he slid himself into her. She could feel his head penetrate and gasped as he pulled her up but the hips to make her work over him.

She rested her head on the pillow while he pounded into her. Her whole body bouncing with each thrust. It didn't hurt exactly, but the vulgarity of the thing; the manner in which he had her, it was as though he were no gentleman at all.

His hands were hard and demanding as he pulled her hips to him over and over again. His penetration easy and she enjoyed the fullness it gave her. His large hand cupped her desire and rubbed, and tormented, and made her climax quicker than normal.

She felt her body start to turn to fire. Her hands, still bound together, gripping at the expensive sheets. Her legs, rudely spread wide and her breasts moving in a most obscene way.

"Arthur?" she managed to gasp. She couldn't take any more. His savagery was becoming too much. She wanter her husband back. Wanted the man who would cuddle with her. Who looked at her with such affection it made her blush. Now, she was blushing for a whole new reason.

She tried to shift her small body away but he sensed the change, grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back as though she were a horse to be ridden and broken.

His pounding becoming more intense now and she was little more that a farm animal in heat. Not a woman, not a person at all as he groaned and growled out his completion.

He released her at once. Like a child growing suddenly tired of a toy.

Her body crumpled onto the bed and she could feel his ejaculate running between her legs. Her womanhood still felt wet, and wanting, but her body was too spent to do little more than control her breathing.

She managed to slip her hands free of her restraint and try to compose herself. She felt disgracefully misused. Every part of her was lying open as though she were a bad woman. She quickly covered her breasts and hips with a sheet and managed a peek at her husband.

No sooner had he finished with her, than he had left her. His work and need for her seeming forgotten while he stood naked in front of the wardrobe door. His member still large but softening quickly now that it was satisfied.

His face was still hard and angry, but his eyes were softer now and the lines on his brow were not as deep. His posture more relaxed and his movements more graceful.

He seemed to avoid looking back at her. When he finally did turn to face her, still naked and unashamed of it, he was the gentleman she had married again.

"Are you alright?" he whispered.

She smoothed back her hair, secured the sheet over her body and managed a weak smile and nod.

In truth, she felt wonderful. Her body was more liberated than ever before. Nothing had ever made her feel so empowered just now. Not standing on the picket line, not giving birth to her son. She felt strong and beautiful and knew that when Arthur was looking at her, he saw it to.

**Sorry for such a long absence. My job had me too preoccupied to think about stories and I could never find the time. I recently received a long awaited transfer and I really think I'll be back on track very soon with my writing. I love writing, even if I don't get paid and I think of it as my real career. I hope my new position will leave me with more time and energy to do it. Much love to ya'll **


	12. Chapter 12

12.

~ "Sorry about that." he sighed as she savored the feel of her naked breasts on his bare chest. No wonder sexual satisfaction was such a sin. She wanted to do this all the time with him. She wanted to be a bad woman who gave herself freely to her own desires and needs. To hell with society and what they thought.

"I'm fine." she murmured and kissed the hollow of his throat.

She felt him swallow hard and run his hands over her back. He covered her more securely with the bedding and she pressed her nose deeply into his chest.

This was happiness, this was what all the songs and poems about love spoke about. She never understood it till now. Her smile was now a grin that she couldn't shed if she wanted to. Happiness was surging through her body that started in her belly and reached to her finger tips and toes.

"It's just that." Arthur stammered and she caught him looking half ashamed and embarrassed.

"What?" she asked. Couldn't he see how content she was? She felt beautiful and powerful just now. His body, strong and protective wrapping around hers. Nothing could reach them now. Nothing.

"You didn't like it… before." he admitted shyly.

"When you hit me?" she teased in a sad self pitying voice.

"Yes." he said gently.

"That was before."

"What's the difference now?"

"That was then, this is now."

"Ah. So we're to be cryptic are we?" he said with a light laugh. His lips kissing her fingers.

"It's the enigmatic nature of women that appeals to men. You love that we have our capriciousness and our secrets." she informed him.

"You more than most I expect." he said dryly. "So long as you weren't hurt and that we're on good terms again."

"Agreed." she said and nuzzled her nose back into his chest.

"Ariadne?"

"Hum?"

"Do you think we'll ever stop this battle we've been raging?" he asked. "Behave like a normal husband and wife?"

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask where the fun in that would be. But she clamped her lips together tightly. She knew he was serious just now. That he wanted her to answer seriously.

"I suppose you can't understand how I see my world. You've had advantages and I've had none." she said.

"You come from money." he argued bitterly. "I've had to make something of myself."

"I came from money and my only task was to marry well and produce a son." she snapped back. "What kind of advantage is that, sir?"

He leaned away from her and she felt her blood racing again. Only this time was different. This time it was with anger.

"You actually want to be treated like a man? Not like a lady? Not like a mother?" he challenged.  
>"That's not at all what I said." she said and leaned away from him. "What I want is the opportunity to be whatever I chose. That's a thing that is denied to so many, Arthur. Not just women."<p>

"You're wrong. Opportunity is there if you want it." he said.

"And if I were to apply for a job at your bank, would you hire me? Knowing I can do the work just as well as a man?" she asked.

"I wouldn't hire you because you you're a mother and you're place is with our son. That job is far more important than extra money. Besides, we're not poor and it's ridiculous to have you work." he said hotly.

She could sometimes hardly understand how she could stay married to this man.

Arthur seemed to sense she was angry and hurt. His eyes looked away from her briefly.

"No more politics for us, dearest." he sighed and pulled her closer.

She struggled slightly, but is was a effort feeble at best.

"No more fighting. I hate to fight with you and you seem to love it." he added and she found refuge by burying her face in the hollow of his throat. "Let's have peace for the rest of the night."

She said nothing and tried to let his cold attitude towards her beliefs slide off her.

"I'd hate to have to punish you again." he sighed and her face pulled into that silly, helpless grin. She gave him a quick kick under the covers and he was kissing her with relish and fevered attention once more.

~ In the morning, Arthur was seated in his reading chair. Little Carlie crawling over the sitting room and Ariadne watched her son's progress.

"Think he'll ever lose the baby weight?" Arthur asked worriedly.

Ariadne cocked her head sideways to look at her baby. Charlie was a little plump compared to his parents. Both she and Arthur were slender and their son, although no mistake he was theirs, had rolls of fat around his face and legs.

"Perhaps when he starts walking, he'll lose the puppy fat." she told him.

Arthur watched Charlie crawl around him. His newspaper forgotten for a moment.  
>"Perhaps we could take him to the park today." she offered at last. "We hardly do things as a family.<p>

"As you wish." he told her indifferently. "Although if he's not to be in some dreary boarding school, I'll imagine you'll get tired of him."

"I don't see myself getting tired of the men in my life." she said quickly and didn't bother to look at him.

"I would think you were very tired last night, dear." he said. His tone was dry and had that delicious teasing she loved.

"Not at all. I just assumed you were worn out. I didn't want to make you feel badly. It's not like you're a young man anymore." she sighed.

She tried not to smile. Her eyes avoiding her husband.

"Well, perhaps I'll take a nap after the park so I won't be better able to keep up tonight." he told her.

She blushed. Her whole face turning scarlet at the idea of doing those things again.

The front door bell rang and the family stayed perfectly still. Mrs. Marsh came from the kitchen to answer it.

Even though the sitting room was closer than the kitchen, it wouldn't do for a respectable family to answer their own door. Instead, they waited for Mrs. Marsh to announce their visitor.

"We're you expecting anyone?" Arthur asked quietly as there was mumbling in the hallway.  
>Ariadne shook her head. She knew it wasn't one of Arthur's friends. He went to the club for that and kept his work life well away from his home life.<p>

"Sir?" Mrs. Marsh came into the sitting room. "It's a police man."

The older woman's face was worried.

"Show him in." Arthur said in surprise and stood. Ariadne quickly followed her husband's example and picked up Charlie off the floor.

She felt slightly panicked at the idea of the law in her home. Ever since her arrest, she hadn't much trust left for police men. Surely she would not be dragged from her own home with her child in her arms? Would she?

"Sorry to interrupt your Saturday, Mr. Brandon." the officer said. His uniform was a crisp dark blue with gold decoration on it. Carlie immediately leaned out of her arms wanting to touch the big man in the shinny uniform.  
>"What's this about?" Arthur demanded cooly.<p>

"Sir, I'm afraid a complaint has been made about Mrs. Brandon." the officer said in a gloomy voice. The intruder didn't bother to look at Ariadne and only spoke to Arthur.  
>"What?" Arthur asked and she could see that the officer had better be careful with his words just now. Her husband wasn't an angry man by nature, but he tolerated very little when it came to the rudeness of others.<p>

"Sir, Mr. Victor Horn has produced a letter, written by Mrs. Brandon here that has damaged the gentleman's reputation. Has slandered his name and accused him of untrue things. I've no choice but to make an arrest in this matter."

"You will not be taking my wife to jail." Arthur said darkly.

"Oh no, not her, sir." the officer said. "It's you the claim is filed against."

"What?" Arthur barked. His eyes cold and angry as Ariadne held Charlie tighter.

"Wait." she stammered and stepped in front of the police man. "I wrote the letter. I did it. I only sent it to Mr. Horn however. I was trying to make him see reason-"

"Ariadne." Arthur's voice was darker now and she she felt her blood turn to ice.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but as the head of the house, you're the one named in the arrest warrant.

"Arthur?" Ariadne cried as she clutched Charlie tighter. The infancy began to fuss as the officer produced handcuffs.

"There's no need for that, sir." Arthur said as if the whole notion were scandalous. "I'll come willingly and I'm not being arrested for a violent crime."

"Arthur!" Ariadne said as the officer placed her husband in handcuffs anyway.

"Ariadne, stay here. I'll have this settled in a few hours." Arthur told her as the police man was pulling her husband out of their home.


	13. Chapter 13

13

~ Ariadne waited for hours for Arthur to come home. Nanny took over Charlie and left the mistress of the house to worry alone. Child like, she tucked herself into the bay window that over looked the street. She would be the first to see Arthur coming home and she felt hidden this way. The curtains enclosing her in the forgotten space.

How could her letter writing have gone so maddeningly wrong? She hadn't thought about Arthur being the one hurt by all this. Then again, she never thought Arthur could be hurt. He seemed invincible to anything. He never faltered or fumbled when it came to his life. She was the one who messed up. She was the one who made all the mistakes and she was the one who's pride and arrogance cause her husband misery just now.

The sun was sinking quickly now and the dying light caused an unfriendly glare to taint her living room. The pink roses Arthur had sent her just a few days ago had begun to wilt. They still sat on the marble top table by the window and were like another cruel joke to her.

Her husband had treated her with nothing but kindness. He had given her a nice home. A live in cook and maid. He provided comfort and security and given her Charlie. She had given him headaches and embarrassment. She had gotten arrested, been committed to a mental health asylum overnight. She willfully disobeyed him to the point that it was childish.

He had told her not to write to Mr. Horn. That the repercussions would be too great and here he was now. Taking her punishment for her.

"Missus?" came a timid voice from the dinning room. "Can I fix you something to eat? A soup maybe?"

Ariadne looked over to see Mrs. Marsh looking worried. The older woman not willing to set foot in the sitting room. Only reaching her from afar.

"No. I'll eat when Mr. Brandon comes home." she said sadly and went back to looking out her window.  
>"It might be a while yet, missus." Mrs. Marsh said. "You should eat something and try to sleep. Mr. Brandon will no doubt be hungry and tired when he comes home. I'll make sure he's fed."<p>

"I will eat my dinner and attend to my husband when he comes home." Ariadne said sharply.

She instantly regretted her harsh tone. Mrs. Marsh looked stricken for a moment before moving away.

"Wait, Mrs. Marsh, I'm sorry." Ariadne called after her. "Please stay a moment."

The the older woman came back slowly and stayed at the threshold of the sitting room like a good servant.

"Arthur is being held accountable for something I did." Ariadne told her. "I don't know how to make it right."

"If there is one person who can make things right, it's Mr. Brandon." Mrs. Marsh said. "Never knew a brighter young man in all my days."

"Yes." Ariadne sighed. "He could be a great man if he didn't have such a willful wife."

"Perhaps." Mrs. Marsh agreed and Ariadne felt a pain in her heart.

"I doubt he would be as happy. Men only think they want a proper lady for a wife. I've found its a happier marriage when there is a stronger connection than just appearance." the older woman amended. "My late husband and I were always bickering. Right up until the day he died in fact. We had received a wedding invitation and he didn't want to go. I told him he was going and there was no getting out of it. He died right there at the kitchen table while I was talking. Always could find a way to weasel out of taking me out." she sighed.

Ariadne's mouth was open in surprise and horror.

"Arthur will never forgive me." Ariadne said meekly.

"Sure he will, missus." Mrs. Marsh told her comfortingly. "Mr. Brandon is blind to any fault you may have. I can see how he cherishes you."

"Not after this." Ariadne said mournfully.

"It will be alright." Mrs. Marsh said. "I've got a soup simmering on the stove for when he comes home."

The older woman left her alone then and Ariadne turned back to her window to watch the stars come out.

She almost fell asleep when she heard a carriage door slam shut and the driver wishing someone a good night. Ariadne jumped awake to see Arthur striding to the front door. He hadn't been able to put a jacket on after the arrest and he must have been cold. His body moved too quickly out of her vision for her to see his face, but she knew he was angry.

He let himself into the house and she knew the hour was late because her neighbors homes were all dark.

She stayed still in the bay window and heard Arthur walking across the the sitting room to the kitchen and come out to the dinning room.

'_Maybe I'll just hide here forever._' she thought and tried to stay still.

But that was childish and silly beyond words. She pulled aside the curtains and stood. Her husband, like always, seemed to know exactly where she was and was waiting for her to reveal herself.

She had to steel herself to meet him again. He didn't look angry or even upset. Instead, his face looked very tired.

"Why are you up so late? It's past midnight." he asked.

"I didn't want to go to bed without knowing you're alright." she told him.

"Of course I'm alright." he snapped.

"Arthur I-" she stammered.

"Ariadne, why don't you go to bed?" he said simply. "I'm exhausted and I think I'll stay in my own chambers for the next few nights."

"Arthur." she said. "I had no idea that you would be arrested. I wrote to Mr. Horn trying to appeal to his decency. There was no cause to bring the law into it."

Arthur wasn't looking at her and that was enough to scare her. It was like the sight of her enraged him and he was trying to keep his temper.  
>"Good night, Mrs. Brandon." he said cooly and slipped away from her.<p>

If he had argued with her, even yelled at her, that would have been something. His anger at her was never this sharp, this deadly.

She didn't mind the clash of opinions or even the spankings when she had been really out of control, but now; this was different.

Things between them felt broken and she no longer felt like the person he loved. No longer felt like his favorite. She was bare tolerable now. If that.

She turned slowly away from him. Hoping he would storm back and want to talk. Want to drag her upstairs to his room. Paddle her with his bare hands and take her in his bed again. That would surly leech out all his anger at her. He could never be mad after they were together.

But his back was to her. His rage was cold and distant. She climbed the stairs alone and failed to stop tears from flowing.


	14. Chapter 14

14.

~ Arthur watched Charlie through the bars of his crib. The child slept peacefully with cheeks tinted pink from the comfort of untroubled rest. It was when he slept that Charlie resembled his mother. Ariadne had the same skin color as their son and she always looked so… _angelic_ when she slept.

Arthur could feel the weight of the day catching up to him. Too much had happened. Too much had gone wrong too quickly. He had been taken out of his own home and made a mockery in front of several police inspectors. His wife's letter was read aloud and his opinion asked about the suffrage movement, whether he supported these 'masculine women' and it was even implied he was a homosexual.

Finally his lawyer arrived and he was released without further incident. Apparently Mr. Horn just wanted to just send a message. Relying on Arthur Brandon to do his own home correction.

Arthur shook off the idea of beating his wife the way some men did. He had always been taught better. His mother and father treated each other well and he had learned from them how that relationship was meant to be. He was shocked to learn that some husbands brutally hurt the women they claimed to love.

He looked over his sleeping son. The baby's fists clenched tight in sleep. How could he ever hurt this child's mother?

"Arthur?" came a meek voice and he turned to see his wife standing in the doorway of Charlie's nursery.

Ariadne looked uneasy and Arthur felt a slight headache crawl into his brain at the sight of her.

"It's late." was all he said. He leaned back in the rocking chair and refused to look at her.

"I know. What are you doing in here?" she asked. Her feet seemingly rooted outside the room.

"Checking on Charlie." he told her.

"He's been sleeping though the night." she assured him hopefully.

Arthur was silent for a long time. His gaze following to Charlie's crib blankets and back over the soft tuft of dark hair. The poor baby did have his ears. That much was certain.

"Arthur?" Ariadne asked. "Will you come to bed?"

"Not tonight." he told her.

He felt, rather that saw the disappointment in her face. If he went to bed with her, all would be forgiven. He knew far too well how she used those female traps of hers. She pretended to be so innocent, but she could weave a spell over him if she tricked him into her bed.

"Arthur, I'm so sorry this happened. I had no idea." said quickly and he heard real remorse in her voice.

"I know."

"No, you don't know. I had no idea this would hurt you." she said. Her voice breaking slightly.

"The fact that I told you it would hurt me, that wasn't enough." he said coldly. Didn't he repeatedly warn her.

"I was the one that did it. They shouldn't have come after you. I signed my own name-"

"Your name is Mrs. Arthur Brandon." he interrupted. "That is how the law sees it. Everything you do is a reflection on me."

He turned to her at last to see her shocked face.

How beautiful she was. Her skin fair and her dark hair falling past her shoulders. Her eyes large with worry and sadness.

"I've said I'm sorry. I don't know what else to do." she said at last.

Arthur felt the headache growing worse and he rubbed his eyes. He didn't want to fight with her tonight. He didn't want to fight with her ever again.

"Ariadne, there is every chance I could lose my job over this." he sighed. His worst fears coming to surface. He had spoken them out loud and made them true.

"What?" she gasped and her feet moved at last to come and sit beside him. "You can't. Daddy is the bank officer."

"He has people he reports to just like anyone else." Arthur said darkly. "Who do you think has the most money in the bank?"

He looked at her with a knowing smugness. A bitterness seeping though him like poison.

"Mr. Horn is a good customer." Ariadne whispered sadly. She looked down at her hands and he knew she now grasped the full weight of what she had done.

He placed his hand over hers in comfort. Her hands were soft as cream.

"No. Daddy would never fire you and leave us destitute." she said stubbornly.  
>"I'm sure he wouldn't." Arthur grumbled. But he knew better. Ariadne's father was a cold hearted man who was glad to be rid of the burden of a troublesome daughter. The old man would have no problems cutting her off entirely.<p>

"Arthur?" she said. Fear creeping into her voice. "What will we do if the worst happens?"

He wanted to reassure her. He wanted to convince her that nothing bad would ever happen and that he would take care of her and Charlie.

For a moment, he faltered. He was never good at hiding how he really felt. His feeling, especially ones of anger and irritation were written on his face a plan as day. He had to lie and do it well. He had to convince his wife they would be alright.

He turned to her. His pretty young bride. The mother of his young son. The woman who controlled the nocturnal beasts that ravaged his body.

"We'll be perfectly alright." he said smoothly. A lie so easy, he believed it himself. "Whatever happens."

He smiled at her and she blinked back tears. Before he could stop her or protest, she was curled in his lap. Her small body fitting neatly into his and her cheek resting on his shoulder. He tried not to let himself breath in the fragrance of her. Her soap and perfumed hair tickling his senses awake.

But his hands found their way around her body and he was holding her close. His nose buried in her dark tresses. His body stirred fitfully and his headache seemed to wash away like sand on a beach. To his own surprise, he managed to stand up with his bride in his arms. Like a prince in some kind of silly fairytale she would have loved as a child. Her own arms wrapped tighter around his neck and he felt himself blush as she kissed his cheek.

"Let's go to bed. Please?" she whispered.

It was the sweetest thing he had ever heard.

**Again, sorry for the wait. Been busy with family drama. **


	15. Chapter 15

15.

~ Arthur felt slightly ill at the idea of going into the office today. He knew that the entire staff would have heard the scandalous story about his arrest by now. A coward would have sent some feeble excuse as to why he couldn't come in today. Wait for time to let everyone forget. Or just given up his position there altogether so he wouldn't have to face the ridicule.

But that was never Arthur's way. It wasn't in him to capitulate or fall back. Let them stare and whisper behind their hands. Let them wonder about what kind of a wife he had at home. He knew very well what kind of woman Ariadne was. In a strange way, he was proud of her. Short sighted or not, it took courage to defy her husband and denounce Mr. Horn. Not everyone had the fortitude to do it.

When he entered the lending office, a pregnant hush was already in the air. No one was working. The usual hum of dictating machines was oddly absent and replaced by whispered conversations and worried looks.

Arthur felt that keen pain of anxiety start to raise. His blood pressure spiking slightly. He knew they must be talking about him. At any moment his boss, who also happened to be Ariadne's brutish father, would come down to tell him he no longer had a place in the banking world.

What would they do then? There wasn't just himself to think of, but his wife and Charles to. He also had Mrs. Marsh's livelihood to consider. She had been with Arthur for years now and at her age, it would be hard to find another job. Arthur felt every one of their needs as a weight pressing down on his chest.

He was about halfway to his office when Reggie Chase, the only man he should call a friend, hurried over to him.

"Arthur, it's so awful. I just found out." he said out of breath. "It's all anyone is talking about. Mr. Horn is talking to the police, I'm told."

"I know, Reggie." Arthur sighed in irritation. He was already getting a headache. "It's going to be all right."

"I don't see how. They'll surely be an arrest." Reggie said.

Arthur almost explained that there was already an arrest when he saw that Reggie looked very somber and almost close to tears. Surely his friend wouldn't by crying for him.

"Wait, what are you talking about, Reg?" he asked.

"The fire. The one in Brooklyn last night." Reggie said and Arthur now saw tears pooling in his eyes. "The fire at one of Mr. Horn's cotton factories. Sixteen women and five children were killed in less than ten minutes. It's a tragedy."

"What?" Arthur breathed. "In the night?"

Reggie nodded and looked at his feet.

"Mr. Horn runs his cotton weaving machines all day and all night. A lot of the factory workers have more than one job you know. He had the women working the weaving machine and the children were small enough to crawl under to scoop up the wasted cotton." he explained. "The other workers said when the blaze broke out, there was nowhere for the women and children to get out. Just one exit so the foreman could keep count of who left and who came in."

Arthur felt slightly dizzy.

"It's just awful." Reggie went on. "The morning paper has a picture of the firemen laying all the bodies out on the street. Rumor is there's going to be an inquest as to safety issues at all of Mr. Horn's facilities. It seems several people in the community had been complaining for years about conditions in some factories outside of the city. It takes a tragedy like this to make people finally pay attention."

Arthur felt stunned.

"Wait, is that all you've heard about Mr. Horn?" he asked hopefully.

Reggie shrugged.  
>"It's all anyone is talking about this morning. We all think the mayor needs to get involved. I mean innocent children were burned alive. Something must be done." he said.<p>

Arthur nodded.  
>"Yes." he said absentmindedly. "Yes, something must be done."<p>

~ Arthur had always taken the morning and evening editions of the paper. The former to read at breakfast, the later to read before supper. Most of the times he left the morning edition behind when he went to work. He had always claimed the early edition was full of political news and he never did more than glance at the summery of each article anyway.

It was always Ariadne who read the early and evening editions cover to cover. Her father had greatly disproved of this practice and made it a point to keep such masculine reading materials locked away in his study.

Arthur wasn't nearly so authoritative when it came to what Ariadne read. Maybe that's why they were in the predicament they were in.

Ariadne had felt miserable all morning. Her family might be destitute because of her actions now. Her husband would lose his job, her son would have no education, they would have to live in a tenement apartment over the river.

She wished she could just learn to be a happy wife. To find contentment in keeping house and nurturing their son. It was a full time job, wasn't it? She should have joined a garden club and hosted small parties while planning a ladies day out to museums.

But no, she had to be the rouge, the malcontent in everything around her.

Arthur had left early that morning. He had stayed with her all night, but the two of them found it difficult to sleep. Both of them were worried about what would happen. Arthur didn't seem to want her affections either. They slept in the same bed like strangers.

Ariadne had come downstairs in her dressing gown. She wasn't in the mood to dress properly. All she wanted was a cold breakfast and to feel sorry for herself.

She stopped short on the landing when she saw Nanny Ann and Mrs. Marsh in the sitting room. The sitting room was off limits to the servants except when cleaning or alerting the family to dinner. But now, Ann and Mrs. Marsh were standing with their heads close together, hushed whispers being passed between them.  
>"Mrs. Marsh?" Ariadne called out. Her voice startling both women.<p>

The housekeeper and nanny both jumped and looked frightened.

"Oh, Mrs. Brandon. I'm sorry." Mrs. Marsh said.

"What's going on?" Ariadne demanded. She saw the early edition was in Mrs. Marsh's hands. "Is that Mr. Brandon's paper?" she asked.

Mrs. Marsh looked nervous.

"He didn't get a chance to read it before he left, madam." Mrs. Marsh told her. Ariadne noticed the long time house keeper looked sad.

"Well, that's no excuse to read his paper." Ariadne said and reached out a hand for it.

Ann looked ready to start crying.  
>"What is it?" Ariadne asked. Something was very wrong.<br>"Oh Mrs. Brandon it's awful." Ann said and started to cry.  
>"What's awful?" Ariadne asked. She sensed the fear from both women. Had the world ended while she slept?<p>

"I didn't mean to read it, ma'am." Mrs. Marsh was saying. "I just saw the headline and picture. I couldn't help it."

"Will you tell me what's going on?" Ariadne demanded.

Mrs. Marsh handed her the paper. Ariadne, still confused, looked over the muddy looking black and white photo of a brick building in flames.

The words 'FIRE AT COTTON WEAVING HOUSE KILLS TWENTY-ONE.' were stamped there in bold letters. Smaller letters told her several women and children had been killed in the suffocating accident.

Ariadne found it hard to swallow. Her heart was racing.  
>"Missus." Ann cried. "They just laid out the little ones on the street. My aunt lives in that neighborhood. I might know some of them."<p>

She rubbed her face as though she were an infant herself.  
>"They had no business putting that awful picture in the paper for decent people to see." Mrs. Marsh said.<p>

"No." Ariadne whispered. "No, we need to see it."

She read the full article, then read it again. Her mind was racing over the idea the Mr. Horn owned the factory and there were no safety doors to let the women and children escape from the fire.

"Where's Charlie?" Ariadne demanded and put the paper aside.  
>"Sleeping." Ann said and sniffed.<p>

"Wash your face and check on him. I'll be going out." Ariadne told her.  
>"Ma'am?" Mrs. Marsh questioned. "You'll be visiting?"<p>

"Yes." Ariadne said. "I've got to hurry. The paper said Mr. Horn will be meeting with police at ten o'clock."

"You're going to police station?" Mrs. Marsh gasped.  
>"Yes." Ariadne said angrily.<p>

"What will you do?" Mrs. Marsh questioned. She was following her mistress up the stairs in bewilderment.

Ariadne shook her head.  
>"I don't know yet." she said honestly. "But I need to see Mr. Horn in person."<p>

**~ I keep apologizing for the log absences, but this one takes the cake. I've been writing GOTHAM fanfic for a while now. Sorry I had given up on this one for so long. It needs to be finished and I will finish it. **


	16. Chapter 16

16.

~ The streets were chaotic. Men and women of all classes were walking quickly downtown to where Mr. Horn was being questioned by the police. Like a heard of animals they moved, and there was only one topic on their minds.

"I keep seeing those poor dead children." A woman was saying to her friend. "Burned alive hose poor babies."

Ariadne was pulled into the tide of people as soon as she stepped away from the safety of her well to do neighborhood. She couldn't help but to feel empowered by the passion of those around her. The only way she could describe it, was akin to a religious experience. All these people thought like she did. They were her kinsmen, her tribe, her family.

"Mr. Horn was paying slave wages to the women." a man boasted. "Barely paid the children anything."

"I think there's a collection to pay for the funerals."

"Poor things won't have to rest in Potter's field."

"Mr. Horn should be laid out in Potter's field."

"No way they could have made it out of the fire."

"Those children never even went to school. They had to work."

"It's a disgrace!"

"Why aren't the police arresting Mr. Horn?"

"He'll get whats coming to him."

Ariadne was pushed along with the great wash of people. She held her hat firmly on her head and tried not to trip and fall as the crowds got bigger the further they went into the city. Her heart was happy to hear the song of rebellion. Here, in the mass of angry and potentially violent people, she wasn't a misbehaving wife of some banker. Here, she was important and she mattered.

True, her comrades were almost all working class. Their shoes scuffed, their clothes careful darned and thread bare. They spoke with a variety of accents, none of which lent them to a high social status, but yet, they were all the same. The fire had enraged them. Had sparked an outcry in the most common of people to mobilize and strike back. Their sheer mass gave them power. Like a great army that was only to be feared because of their number.

They were walking towards the police station where Mr. Horn was still being questioned. The paper hadn't been discreet about where exactly Mr. Horn would be and for how long. It was no surprise at all that the city had all turned out on the streets together. Ariadne recognized the building as the same one she had once been jailed in for demanding the right to vote. Her husband having to bail her out and the shame he had made her feel for standing up for herself.

As if they were one, the crowd began to heckle to policemen who came out to meet them.  
>"Bring him out!" one of the men shouted.<p>

"Child killer!" cried one of the women.

"Slave master!"

"Bring him out!"

Ariadne looked wildly around at the angry mob she was apart of. She wanted to shout something to, but her mind was too overwhelmed with everything she seeing. She hadn't been to a formal protest since before Charlie was born. Then, she and her fellow sisters in suffrage had been on the receiving end of hateful shouts. She had rotten fruit thrown at her and belittled by strangers.

Here, she was the one doing the harassing. It wasn't just her middle class sisters who spoke with their well educated and nice manners. Here, it was course and almost violent.

"Now, you all need to go home." Another policeman said. The station house doors were being blocked by three large men preventing the mob from overtaking them.  
>"Mr. Horn isn't even here."<p>

"That's a lie!" one of the men shouted. "That's his carriage and his man, I'd recognize it anywhere!"

Ariadne gasped when she saw the man who was shouting. His face was burned a bright pink and half his hair was gone. His skin had the kind of horrible shine to it from exposure to fire. The mob must have seen the man's face to because they backed away from him.

The burned man glared at his compatriots. His eye wild with anger.  
>"For five years I worked for Horn. I, and my wife and two children. We were barely paid enough to live on. I worked sixteen hour days at the mills. My wife worked and when the little ones were old enough, they had to work to. Mr. Horn always found a way to dock our pay. To cheat us. The factories were too crowded and hot, we were ridden by his foremen like slaves." the burned man told the crowd.<br>Ariadne saw he looked very thin and his clothing was worn and dirty. His appearance wasn't just related to the fire, but to long term neglect of health.  
>"The fire is because Horn wouldn't space out his workers. He closed off doors so no one should sneak out. He insisted people work long hours and locked them into the weaving rooms to get an honest days work out of them. When anyone stood up to him, he had them arrested for slander. We're poor, and couldn't afford to go against the law. Horn owns the law!" the burned man shouted.<p>

He pointed at the burly police men standing guard at the station doors.  
>"Bring Horn out!" shouted a woman.<p>

"He killed those children!" shouted another.

Ariadne gasped at the rush of people now pressing themselves against the policemen.

"Get Horn!" the men were shouting.

Ariadne tried to grab ahold of someone for support but her foot caught somewhere and she slipped. Someone pushed her down from behind and she instinctively crouched away from the sudden chaos.

All she knew then were shouting and the barking of dogs. The policemen were ready for the mob of angry protesters.

She looked up, still mired in the mass of people, and saw the tide turn again. Dogs were being sent out to disperse the crowds. Men were shouting and throwing rocks at the police station.

Women were screaming and policemen were hitting them with clubs.

Ariadne had never seen violence like this. Her father had hit her, she had rotten fruit thrown at her, her husband had spanked her, but never had she seen real violence. This was horrible savagery in it's most vial form.

People were screaming all around her, adding to the confusion. Shouts of anger and pain were all around her.

"Go home!" a police man was shouting at a cluster of women. He hit them, unmercifully across the head with his night stick. Ariadne gaped in horror at brutality of it. The poor women were beaten as if they were rabid dogs. Over and over the police man hit them.

The screams from the crowds echoed all over the streets and the mob was trying to run away from the dogs and their attackers. The mighty numbers of protesters churned against the invaders, but the dogs, the ruthless violence and the fear of imprisonment or even death was enough to make many flee.

Ariadne could only watch, motionless as the policeman gave a random victim one last blow to the body. She couldn't seem to move as the attacker seemed to be a little winded and had to stop. He turned and saw she hand't obeyed orders. That she had stayed with the crowd on the streets. Ariadne had never been able to find her way out of the mass of people in all the violence and mayhem that soon erupted.

The cop, a deranged blood lust in his eyes moved towards her.  
>"Wait! I'm-" Ariadne started to say.<p>

But it was too late to try and defend herself. She had thrown her hands up as some kind of protection, but the hit was too hard. She was struck across the face and she tasted her own blood filling up her mouth.

Never, not even when she lived with her father, had she ever been his so hard. Her face ached with sudden pain and her body became tight with fear.

She had to spit out the blood that was swimming in her mouth and managed a gasp of breath.  
>"Worthless bitch." the policeman was saying. "Didn't I tell you to move on?"<p>

Ariadne managed to shield her face from the next blow better and he only struck her arm. All the same, she cried out. The pain radiated from the point of impact and seemed to grow in strength.  
>"Move on!" her assailant shouted.<p>

She thought he would hit her again, but there was some kind of calamity. Men were shouting close by and there was a fight. She tried to open her eyes to look but could feel one eye was quickly swelling shut.

"Miss?" came a man's voice. "Miss, can you walk? Miss, you need to get out of here."

Ariadne only nodded but the ringing in her ears was growing worse and the riot around her sounded like ocean waves. The man, the burned man, was pulling her to her feet.  
>"Go, home, Miss." he was saying in her ear.<p>

Ariadne spit more blood onto her shirt and managed to stumble away from the anarchy of protesters that were fleeing the violence.

She felt dizzy and knew she wouldn't make it all the way home.  
>'<em>I'll just sit here for a little while.<em>' she thought. The front stoop of a town home looked very comfortable just now. '_I'll sit here for just a little while.'_

She closed her eyes and her body felt very heavy. She needed to get home to Charlie. To Arthur. She loved them both so much. Then, she thought that they would be alright. That she had no worries at all.

She let the darkness envelop her and never realized she fell off the stoop and onto the sidewalk.


	17. Chapter 17

17.

~ "The streets are in chaos." Arthur said to Mrs. Marsh as soon as he arrived home. "I left work early."

Mrs. Marsh helped him out of his coat and made a point of not saying anything or even looking at him.

"The police were chasing a group of men not far from here. Can you believe it? I heard there was some commotion at the police station where Horn was being questioned." Arthur went on. He seemed oblivious to the silent house.

"All of this over the factory fire." Arthur added when Mrs. Marsh handed him his paper.

He looked over the evening edition and saw that the fire had made the front page again. This time there was more information about the conditions of the factory. It seems that many workers DID get out, in fact dozens of them made it to safety, but the idea that there were that many workers crammed into such a small factory was distressing.

He read over a statement Mr. Horn issued. Some tripe about how he was giving the people jobs and how he can always close his factory doors and allow the poor to starve.

Arthur felt his face tighten into a scowl at the statement. He could only imagine what Ariadne would think when she read it.  
>"Mrs. Marsh?" he called out and loosened his tie. "Has Mrs. Brandon seen the evening edition yet?"<p>

His eyes were glued now to a story about the riot surrounding Mr. Horn that afternoon.

"Not the evening edition, sir." Mrs. Marsh said carefully. "I know she saw the morning news though."

"Hmmm. I'm sure she's upset." Arthur said grimly. There would be no living with his wife after this. The fire and Mr. Horns hubris would give Ariadne a feeling of smug superiority. He felt his heart beat a little faster at the idea of keeping his beautiful wife in check when she got a little too cocky with her 'I-Told-You-So' attitude.

"What's for dinner, Mrs. Marsh?" Arthur asked at last. He checked the time and it was almost time to eat. The news today had been so engrossing, he hadn't even noticed that his wife and son weren't in the parlor with him.  
>"Where's Ariadne? Where's Charles?" he asked suddenly feeling foolish for being alone.<p>

"The little one is upstairs." Mrs. Marsh said quickly. "We haven't see Mrs. Brandon since this morning."

"She must be upset." Arthur concluded. "The whole thing is awful."

"Sir." Mrs. Marsh said carefully. Her face grim from the effort of trying to say something difficult. "Mrs. Brandon left this morning."

Arthur snapped the paper sharply and slapped it on the table beside him.  
>"Left to go where?" he demanded. He had a nagging suspicion his wife had gotten herself into trouble again.<br>"She wouldn't say exactly, sir." Mrs. Marsh said quickly. "But she was upset about the fire and that Mr. Horn."

"Bring her downstairs." Arthur almost barked.

"Sir." Mrs. Marsh said in a timid voice. "Mrs. Brandon never came home."

Arthur could feel his heart skip a beat. His wife had never been away from home this late in the evening. Her day time actives were always completed long before he got home. She had a house to manage and a baby to care for on top of it.  
>"What?" he breathed. "Mrs. Marsh, you tell me where my wife is."<p>

~ Ariadne heard voices over her. Her eyes wouldn't open and her body felt heavy and uncomfortable.

'_Pain_'. she thought to herself. She couldn't make herself move from the stiffness in her body.

"Will she live?" barked an angry voice.

Ariadne could feel and see a bright light bleeding through her eyelids. She felt strong hands cup her face and turn her head.

She let out a moan of discomfort. The hands were too rough and seemed oblivious to her pain.

"I think so. She was hit in the head but I don't think there's any permeant damage." another voice said.

Ariadne felt her eye lid being pride open and the harsh light blinded her. Her eyes wanting to close shut again from the stabbing light directly in her eye.

"No." she gasped.

"You know she was with all those rebels at the police station. Wanting to give Mr. Horn what for." the first voice said angrily.  
>"I'd like to give Mr. Horn what for." the second voice. "You know they had to bring all those bodies through here, right? All I've been doing today is paperwork for the dead and treating all those burn victims. Now this mess."<p>

"Any identification?" the first voice asked.  
>"No. No money on her person. Maybe she was robbed. She's dressed well. Wedding band on her finger. She wasn't one of the factory workers." the second voice said.<br>"She was still committing a crime. Assaulting a police officer." the first voice said angrily. "Process her. Three day lock up. I'll sign the order."

"Chief shouldn't we find her husband?" the second voice asked. "She doesn't look like she belongs in the jail."

"She committed a crime, doctor." the chief said in his angry voice. "I'm sending the order now. As soon as she can walk, she's to go to the women's detention. At lest three days. That will give her husband time enough to find her."

"Yes, sir." said the doctor and Ariadne felt the light above her switch off.

~ Ariadne's body was hurting even more now that time had passed. She could feel the pain of where she was hit across her back and ribs. Her breathing coming short with the needle like pain anytime she tried to breath normally.

She knew she had been allowed to rest for a few hours. Knew that night had rolled around agin because of the cold seeping into the air.

She slept a deep and heavy sleep that was taunted with the sounds of people coming and going out of the medical ward she vaguely knew she was in.

She woke up when a menacing looking woman struck the side of the hospital bed with a heavy night stick.

"Wake up!" she barked at Ariadne. "All of you on your feet!"

Ariadne opened her eyes and blinked at the aggressive light and unwelcoming sight of the hospital room.

"What's going on?" she asked in a muffled voice. Her vision was blurry and her throat was dry and scratchy from thirst. She sat up out of bed slowly. Her bare feet touching the tiled floor that was like ice.  
>"You're going to the women's lock up." the abrasive woman growled at her. Ariadne looked around and saw she was not alone. There were about twenty women in this room, some in beds, some were nurses caring for them. The ward smelled of hospital cleaners and was lined with tile walls and high windows. It was large women's room of the city's hospital ward. Meant to keep the city's poor barely alive until they were released. Rows and rows of beds were lined against the wall to maximize space and patients to be treated. The only privacy were curtains that wrapped around the beds.<br>"Wait, what happened?" Ariadne questioned.

She was answered with a rap on the metal hospital bed by the female jailer.

"Lock up. For the rioting." The guard barked again. "You're to come with me. The wagon's waiting. All of you, on your feet now."

"Wait, there's been a mistake." Ariadne managed to say at last. She was being pulled out of her bed by another female guard and pushed out of the safety of the ward. There were three other women with her, being pushed and bullied out of the hospital. Their faces marred by the bruising and look of utter defeat.

They looked like working class woman from their clothes and hair.

"Miss!" Ariadne called. She winced in pain from trying to keep up. It hurt to breathe just now and she wasn't able to see very well from her left eye. "There's been a mistake. I was attacked. I was attacked by that police man. I need to send word to my husband and our lawyer. He's going to want to file charges."

The female guard snorted.

"You weren't attacked." she said with a sneer. "You were in a riot. Causing trouble and breaking the law down by the police station. Cops told you to leave and you didn't. So now you're going to spend three days in the lock up."

"What?" Ariadne said in disbelief. "Those police cause the riot. The released dogs on us, one of the police officers were beating women."

The two guards exchanged looks. Finally, the meaner looking guard stepped forward.  
>"You're to get on the wagon and keep your mouth shut. We already know you're apart of the riot. Save your little speeches." She hissed angrily.<p>

Ariadne winced when the guard grabbed her hair and pushed her to the doors.

"Get off of me!" she cried out and tried to push the horrid woman away. "I'm not supposed to be in lock up, I've done nothing wrong."

"You were in a riot." the other guard said and opened the door for them. The meaner guard pushing Ariadne outside.

"Let go of me!" Ariadne shouted.

It didn't hurt so much now that her anger and indignation had given her hidden strength. She managed to free herself from the guard's grasp and step away from her.

"I'm trying to tell you there has been some sort of mistake." She said firmly.  
>"No mistake." The guard huffed. "Now get on the wagon or I'll put you right back in the hospital and you'll still have to do your three days in lock up.<p>

It was then that Ariadne saw it. The reflection on the window of a darkened store front. Saw herself standing on the street in front of the police wagon. Saw that her hair was undone and messy. Saw her beautiful visiting dress was wrinkled and stained. Saw her face had a deep bruise covering it.

"Get on the wagon." the guard ordered.


	18. Chapter 18

18.

~ The guards had mercifully found Ariadne's shoes and were kind enough to allow her to wear them in the bitter cold of the jail. Everything else, clothing, jewelry, dignity, had to go.

"Take everything off." a gruff, woman in uniform barked at her. The guard had massive arms for a woman and a rather sour look on her face.

"Pardon?" Ariadne questioned. They had just been unloaded from the wagon and were being herded into a large washroom. This place was a lot like the hospital. Ugly tile on the walls and very little privacy.

"Strip down." the guard ordered again. "It's best you don't make me tell you twice."

The other two guards threw the new arrival a grey piece of fabric that had been washed so many times, it was now faded and as rough as sandpaper.

"You'll put these on." one of them informed the women.  
>"Ma'am," Ariadne breathed. "I'd much prefer to wear my own clothing. My husband will be coming for me soon. This is all a big misunderstanding."<p>

The sour faced guard gave her a disgusted look and Ariadne heard the other female guards snicker.  
>"Am I going to have a problem with you? You'll change into the uniform of all inmates or you'll be back in the hospital with new injuries." the woman snarled.<br>"Just do it." one of Ariadne's fellow inmates whispered. "They make everyone change. It's no good fighting them."

But Ariadne felt that same rebellious streak rise up in her again. She never did things the easy way. She never did learn her lesson. She never did learn to back down when it was a losing battle.  
>"No." Ariadne said calmly. Her voice as cold and determined as Arthur's would be if he were here. She could almost channel her husband's own stubbornness into her body at this moment. What would he do if someone forced him to wear prison rags?<br>"What?" the sour faced guard demanded. "Speak up!"

"I won't wear this. I have the right to remain in my own clothes." Ariadne said cooly. Her voice dignified with the indignity of the situation.

She heard the noise of the night stick slide out of the hip holder and the sour faced woman glared at her like she were a bothersome pet.

"You'll strip down and change like you've been told to, miss high and mighty." she ordered.  
>"No." Ariadne said firmly. "I want to speak to your supervisor."<p>

She wasn't ready for the hit to the leg the sour faced woman delivered.

The pain took her breath away. A constant aching pain that refused to let her go. She couldn't even catch her breath enough to cry out. Instead, all she could do was slump down and clutch her leg. Her body wanting to curl into itself for protection.

She felt hands on her then. Many hands pulling off her jacket, her well made dress shirt, her long skirt, and ripping the fabric of her undershirt.

"No!" Ariadne cried pitifully. She tried to stop the many hands from ripping off her clothes, but another slap of the night stick across her back was enough to make her stop trying to defend herself.

"Stop it!" she cried pitifully. The hands were ripping off her under garments and she halfheartedly struggled to cover her now naked body. The cold air was invasive and the degradation of being forcibly stripped naked was even more painful that the blows to the legs or back.

"Now stand up!" the sour faced woman growled again. Her voice had the raspiness of someone who was used to giving orders and having them obeyed.

Ariadne shook her head. She wasn't going to give them anything. Not one inch. She covered her naked body with her arms and remained huddled on the floor. The other women around her had voluntarily taken their clothing off. They stood, still as statures while the other guards made sure nothing was hidden on their bodies.

"I said stand up." the sour faced guard ordered again.

"No." Ariadne said after taking a deep breath for courage.

"Shower for this one." the sour faced guard ordered and pointed at their troublesome guest. "No need for hot water. She'll want to dress soon enough after that. Take her ring to. Keep it in holding till her time's up."

"Yes, matron." one of the female guards said quickly. The other women were ordered to dress and were marched out of the washroom by the sour faced woman known as Matron. Ariadne still crouched on the floor. Her arms wrapped around her slight frame.  
>"I refuse a shower." she informed the guard.<p>

"Not really up to you." one of the two remaining guards said. She heard running water being turned on and watched in horror as the two women pointed a hose used for washing down buggies at her.

The water that came out was so strong, it almost knocked her off her feet. Water battered her already bruised body and managed to hit sensitive areas that Ariadne wasn't able to cover. But all this was nothing compared to the ice cold of the water they were punishing her with. It was so cold, it almost felt like burning.

"Stop!" she screamed. Her tormenters were hitting her face, her buttocks, her breasts with cold water. Every time she tried to protect on body part, they attacked the undefended parts. It felt like eternity before they stopped.

"Now, you're going to dry off with this towel and you'll dress like Matron ordered you to in the first place." the guard said happily.

Ariadne was shaking. Her body was freezing and in even more pain than ever. The hose had no doubt irritated the bruises that were already there. Defeat, stronger than she had ever felt creeped into her body as she accepted the dry towel.

She dried off as best she could, and wordlessly dressed in the scratchy grey dress they had given her. She was grateful they had at least let her keep her shoes. She slowly tied up the lacings and felt her face ache from her shower. Her whole body hurting now from it's icy water stings.  
>"I can see we're going to behave now." the Matron said smugly when Ariadne was escorted into the holding cells.<p>

Ariadne said nothing.  
>"Well, you behave yourself and your sentence will fly by." Matron added. "Now, tell us your name for the record."<p>

Ariadne froze. Her name? Arthur's name? She could see it now. The arrest records printed in the newspapers. Arthur would certainly lose his job if he hadn't already. Charlie might even be taken away if the city knew about him. As much as she wanted Arthur to come and rescue her, as much as she wanted to be at home with her baby, she couldn't humiliate her husband like this.

Ariadne shook her head.  
>"Your name!" barked the Matron again.<p>

"No." Ariadne said meekly.  
>"Jane Doe." the Matron said with that sour voice and even sourer look. "She'll be in the back cell. Oh and take her ring."<p>

"No!" Ariadne shouted when the two guards grabbed hold of her arms.

"Come on! You heard the Matron!" the guard pleaded. "All jewelry has to come off."

Ariadne, renewed with fight, tried to keep her hand clenched into a fist. Her wedding band would be stolen, she just knew it. This sour faced woman would take it to a pawn shop as soon as she left here. Arthur would be heart broken.

"Here." the Matron said with a sigh. "I'll show you how it's done."

With strong fingers, the evil Matron pried Ariadne's hand open and savagely pulled the well worn wedding band off her finger. The other two guards held Ariadne down and prevented her from fighting back against the theft.

"Stop it!" Ariadne cried. "That's mine!"

"See?" the Matron said to her fellow guards. "Thats you do it. Now, take her to her cell." Ariadne watched her put her wedding ring in her pocket and leave them.  
>"Give it back!" she shouted. Instead, she was pulled and shoved to the end of the hall and, unceremoniously, dumped into a dark, closet size cell with no light. The door slammed shut in her face, and she was alone in the cold.<p> 


End file.
